


With the Roll of a Dice

by ade_wolf_97



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: BAMF Molly, Caduceus is a sweetheart, Fjord deserves hugs, Gen, Jester is smart, Mentions of Vox Machina, Mighty Nein, Mighty Nein as Family, Molly AND Caduceus, Molly POV, Molly never died, Mysteries, Third Person POV, We love our hobo wizard, and to use Taliesin’s words, because I don’t care, caleb pov, character cameos, more to be added - Freeform, our ostentatious tiefling, wink wink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23659273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ade_wolf_97/pseuds/ade_wolf_97
Summary: “I’ve heard that word before, in stories, I think. If I remember correctly, they were a sort of higher power that would follow teams of adventurers on their quests.”“Me, as well. They are said to exist in a plane outside our own, and as they follow, they have the power to influence events as the adventurers live through them.”“What, and you think one of these—these creepy entities is stalking us?”Matthew Mercer was tired. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. He’d been getting headaches for the past week or so, and it was making it really difficult to sleep or plan the next session of Critical Role. He thought he could ignore it.The Mighty Nein had simply been on their way to town to buy supplies. Nothing had seemed strange—not until they arrived to see everyone there frozen in place, as if some spell was cast on them. But there was no magic. They had to figure out what was going on.
Relationships: Matthew Mercer/Marisha Ray (background)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 203





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my first story in the Critical Role fandom! I came across a comic a while back that crossed over Matthew with Vox Mochina, and thought—what if? So now this story exists...  
> This story is being co-authored by my sister. She’s amazing. I’ll be writing Caleb’s chapters (and the prologue), and she’ll be doing Molly’s.   
> Also the prologue is shorter than the chapters will be so don’t be discouraged by the short five hundred some words! :D  
> Hope you enjoy!

Matthew Mercer was tired. Physically. Since the migraines started, he’d been getting less and less sleep, instead laying in bed, staring into the blackness surrounding him with no semblance of any peace whatsoever. Mentally. When he did manage to fall asleep, he was plagued with meaningless dreams that both confused him and freaked him out. Not to mention he hadn’t been able to come up with any new ideas for this week’s stream. And it was Wednesday. Emotionally. The stress hanging over him from the combination of his other two forms of exhaustion was making him more and more frustrated. He was worried that, come tomorrow night, nothing new would be in his head, and everyone would be disappointed when he had to call it off.

All this because he was getting headaches.

So of course he hadn’t told anyone. Headaches didn’t mean anything on their own, and if they knew he was behind because of something so minor, they’d probably get angry with him. So—survive and persevere, he’d decided.

He groaned as he rolled over in bed, attempting to ignore the throbbing pain behind his eyes, and instead focusing on ideas for their campaign. With less than twenty-four hours left to come up with three hours worth of story, he had to start working. Hopefully the others would feel up to a little more discussion amongst themselves this time. He didn’t think the story would be very long otherwise, but he at least needed something to start with.

_Last week we... where did we leave off? The—oh, right, the party was on their way to the city. And as they were approaching, they noticed something strange. Uhh..._

Growing increasingly frustrated with the lack of any ability to think, Matt leaned his head back into the pillow and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Each minute ticking by was adding to the ever sinking feeling of dread for the moment of _welcome to tonight’s episode of Critical Role_... He glanced over at the clock.

2:17.

He didn’t even waste time to groan again, exhaustion and anger finally taking over and causing his eyes to burn. He couldn’t take much more of this. Sure, he’d lived off of five hours of sleep in the past, but now was different. Partially because he hadn’t slept properly for a week, and partially because he actually _did_ want to disappear into his dreams for a while. Maybe rest could dispel the pain in his head and give him an idea or two to go off of.

But no such luck. He’d already been tossing and turning for hours. He doubted he had any more chance to fall asleep now than he did before. So instead, he threw off the blankets, and got to his feet. Maybe a walk and a drink of water would clear his head.

Matt barely made it two steps before he toppled to the side, catching his balance on the wall he slammed into when the lightheadedness began to flood over him. His heart was pounding in his chest, head throbbing to the ever present beat, and nothing more passed through his head before he was collapsing against the wall and instantly passing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fandom, pointing at Matt: he need some MILK.


	2. Sunrise

The moon was low on the horizon when Caleb’s eyes fluttered open, the cool night air making room for an early morning breeze as the birds began to chirp excitedly in the trees. He drew in a long breath as he rolled onto his back and stretched his arms above him. From what he could tell, everyone else—with the exception of Beauregard, who had second watch—was still asleep. He’d often missed the pleasing feeling of awakening early enough to watch the rest of the world come to life. When he was young, his father would often nudge him awake and take him and Mother outside to watch the sunrise. A feeling of nostalgia washed over him as he glanced at the light beginning to creep over the mountains on the horizon.

It felt peaceful. He only belatedly noticed that he hadn’t awoken from any crippling dreams the night before. It was a rare occurrence, but a welcome one. A blink of his eyes, and Frumpkin was suddenly standing in front of him, watching him closely with his head tilted. The cat creeped forward and gently nudged his muzzle up against Caleb’s cheek, eliciting a smile and a faint laugh from deep in the wizard’s chest. “Good morning to you, too,” he said softly.

Caleb pushed himself into a sitting position, gently stroking his familiar’s soft pelt and glancing around the clearing at his companions. As he’d suspected, they were all sound asleep; Molly was passed out next to a tree with Yasha’s head on his chest, Jester and Fjord separate a few feet away from them, and Nott was curled up on the ground at Caleb’s feet.

A negative feeling that he couldn’t quite name washed over him. Like this positive company was undeserved, like he wasn’t worthy of such good people. He’d thought about leaving before. Just packing up his things and sneaking away in the middle of the night, convinced they wouldn’t miss him. Somehow, though, he could never bring himself to do it. Maybe he knew that he wouldn’t stand a chance in his own. Maybe he knew that leaving would hurt them just as much as him. Maybe he knew that, despite his past, his mistakes, and his flaws, he truly did belong with them.

Caleb let out a small sigh as he got to his feet and carefully stepped around Nott, over Jester, and across the rest of the clearing to where Beau was scanning the trees with a focused gaze. “Mornin’, early bird,” she greeted with a small smirk, sparing a glance in his direction. “Sleep well?”

Caleb gave her a warm smile of his own. “ _Ja_ , actually.” He swiftly took a seat next to her. He caught her smiling as she averted his gaze, as if she knew something he didn’t, but despite his curiosity, he didn’t question it. “So, where are we going today?”

Beau shrugged her shoulders. “Dunno. I think the others said they needed some supplies.”

“ _Fantastisch_! I am nearly finished with my book.” Beau laughed a little, shaking her head. Caleb paused, examining the map and compass in his head. “At a steady pace, it would take us, uh... _drei meilen westlich, vier meilen nördlich, drei pro stunde, macht_ —two and a half hours?”

“I’ll be sure to check you on that, Widogast,” a voice piped up from behind them. Caleb jumped ever so slightly—he’d never liked when people snuck up behind him. It reminded him a little too much of his still lingering fear of being found by Ikithon after he’d first deserted Soltryce. Traveling in a group had helped dispel that fear, but he wasn’t any less jumpy.

He glanced over his shoulder to see their resident violet Tiefling approaching him and Beau. “Good morning,” he greeted.

Molly gave him a nod in response, plopping down in between them both. He must’ve noticed the tension that had suddenly wound up in Caleb’s shoulders, because he reached over and put an arm around him, pulling him into a sideways embrace. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Caleb wouldn’t admit it, but he appreciated the gesture. For a lot of his life, the only physical touch he got was harmful. Ikithon and the crystals. The workers at the asylum slapping him when he was having a nightmare. Guards in the jail taking out their anger on him. Molly was the only one besides Nott that showed any physical affection for him, something that was comforting rather than harmful. Hugging him regardless of the situation, gently massaging his shoulders when his muscles were tense, stroking his hair when he woke up in the middle of the night.

“Not a problem,” Caleb answered.

“I’m hungry. Who wants breakfast?” Fjord’s voice rang out from behind them. If everyone wasn’t already awake, they sure were now.

Molly swiftly pulled away from Caleb, getting to his feet to go help prepare whatever meal he had in mind. Caleb selfishly wished he’d stay behind, but didn’t voice that thought. He let out a soft breath and summoned Frumpkin to his side. Frumpkin ignored the basis of his message and instead leapt up onto his shoulders, causing yet another low laugh to rumble from Caleb’s chest.

He looked up to see that Beau was watching him carefully, her head tilted slightly with a faint smile playing at her features. “You’ve come a long way since we first met you, Caleb.”

Caleb thought back to the first time he’d seen the rest of the group. Beau, Jester, and Fjord at a table in the tavern, and Mollymauk and Yasha approaching them all there. A single thought of his own appearance now compared to them brought a slight frown to his face. He didn’t really look any different. Maybe his beard was more evenly trimmed and there was a little less dirt on his face, but he still wore the same clothes. He still stayed up late reading books because he couldn’t fall asleep. He still spoke in alternating patterns of Zemnian and Common.

But he didn’t flinch as hard when someone mentioned Ikithon, or Soltryce. He didn’t shy away from someone’s hand on his shoulder. He was more willing to speak up. “ _Ja_ , I suppose I have.”

“I mean it. My first impression of you was a hobo who was so cautious that he jumped at every sudden noise.”

Caleb blinked. He didn’t quite know how to feel about that. “And, now?”

“Now you’re less fearful. You certainly laugh more than you used to. And you’re compassionate.” She reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. “You’ve got a family now.”

Caleb smiled. Beau let the moment pass, pulling her hand away and looking back into the trees. Frumpkin purred and brushed his cheek against Caleb’s once more, and Caleb turned to watch his companions.

Jester was watching closely as Molly and Fjord worked on breakfast, focused intently on their actions and excitedly bouncing up and down with every new step. Caleb had often envied her excitable energy, but it was his favorite aspect of her. She was optimistic, and always found the positive side, even in the worst situations.

Mollymauk was sprinkling ingredients and stirring them in the small pan above the fire, occasionally stopping to smell the scented steam that rose above it. Molly was probably the most self confident person in the whole group, but simultaneously, he was just as supportive as everyone else. He’d been one of the most effective in the reparation of Caleb’s damaged mind, and he was the life of the party.

It must be a Tiefling thing, Caleb mused.

Nott was sitting on a log behind Molly, playing with a shiny coin and occasionally darting up to try to grab some of the food from the pan. She was the one that Caleb had known the longest—the two of them had met in the most unlikely of situations, and happened to stay together after they escaped. Caleb would admit, he thought they would’ve parted ways as soon as they stepped foot out of jail, but they’d both subconsciously decided to look after each other, so they stuck together. Caleb wasn’t sure he could ever repay her for everything she’d done for him.

Fjord was tending to the fire and occasionally handing Molly herbs for the food, smiling widely at a story that Yasha was telling him. He and Caleb weren’t the closest, but they were still good friends, and he was one of the most loyal and reliable people that Caleb had met. The two of them had shared a few bonding moments telling of their adventures over a drink or reaching each other about their own unique abilities. Despite his appearance, he really was one of the kindest in their group.

Yasha was sitting across from Nott, next to Fjord, dramatically telling him a story that Caleb was sure they’d probably heard before. She was often the one that Caleb found the most intimidating, but he knew her heart, and she was the most emotional out of anyone. She’d felt love and heartbreak, joy and pain, and somehow, she endured all of it. Caleb had felt that the two of them were the most similar; complicated past, trying to forge their own futures, and it didn’t really matter what everyone else may think.

Beauregard, sitting to Caleb’s right, was shifting between watching the group and keeping an eye out on the terrain around them. She was easily the most protective out of all of them, choosing to make them her family and making it clear that she’d stop at nothing to keep them from harm. Her and Caleb had grown closer as time passed, and despite their friendly banter, they both knew that the other cared for them. Caleb had once thought that she was almost like a sister that he’d never had.

“Breakfast is served!” Molly called out, breaking through Caleb’s line of thought and beckoning for the group to gather around the fire. “I present; my famous and beautifully delectable steak over fine toast, sprinkled with a little bit of my special spice.”

A small bubble of laughter passed through the group, and Molly began to dish up individual servings on their cheap wooden plates, handing them out around the circle. Caleb felt the first plate pressed into his hands and he gratefully accepted, closing his eyes briefly as the scent reached his nose. He wished he’d always been able to eat food as good as the meals Molly made for them. The Tiefling was able to turn the smallest of scraps into the tastiest of dinners, and Caleb had once considered asking for lessons.

It tasted just as good as it smelled, and Caleb’s was gone in a matter of minutes. Molly held up what was left when he saw the empty plate, offering him seconds, but Caleb held his hand up and politely declined. As he waited for the others to finish, he began to pack up his things, stuffing books and spell components into his pockets and his pack. He was in the middle of folding up his bedroll when something glinted in the corner of his eye. Caleb turned, brow furrowing in confusion when he saw the seemingly useless necklace from their previous mission glowing ever so slightly on the ground. He picked it up to examine it, and almost instantly dropped it again, flinching back with a short yelp.

Nott was at his side in an instant, demanding to know if he was alright. He glanced down at the round blister already showing in the center of his palm, then over at the necklace, frowning. It wasn’t glowing anymore. “What happened?” Nott’s voice said in his ear.

Caleb shook away the confusion and looked at her, forcing a reassuring smile onto his face. “ _Nichts_ —Nothing. I am fine.”

Nott didn’t seem to believe him, but she didn’t question him any further. She begrudgingly walked back to the fire to finish her food.

Caleb tentatively reached out, fingertips brushing ever so slightly against the metal. Cool. Like it had been sitting out in the open all night, which it had. His frown deepened as he looked at his hand again, ignoring the ever present stinging sensation and instead trying to figure out what the heck just happened. Caleb picked up the necklace once more, in his other hand, and turned it over, inspecting the front and back for any signs of magical runes or symbols. He was greeted only with a strange clef on the back, engraved in the metal, that didn’t represent anything he had any knowledge of. Caleb cast a discreet Detect Magic spell, but got no response. He stared at it for a moment longer before tossing it in his bag with everything else.

He’d considered the chance that maybe he’d imagined the glowing, but the branding of the runic marking on his right palm said otherwise. Maybe the necklace was meant to be some sort of weapon? Give it to someone to wear and it’ll suddenly burn through—no. Way too violent. It could be that some other sorcerer had been passing by and cast a spell on it, but if that were the case, it was no magic he recognized, and Caleb felt pretty confident his Detect Magic spell would’ve caught on. He also thought that maybe it was tracking something, that it grew warmer as whatever grew closer, but that would mean that it was close then gone faster than he could blink an eye.

He had absolutely no valid ideas.

Caleb finished strapping his belongings into his pack at around the same time as everyone else—apparently he’d spent a little longer than he thought pondering the meaning behind the strangeness with the amulet—and he nodded to Beau to signal he was good to go. She took a last look at their camp, confirming they’d extinguished the fire and had everything, then threw her own pack over her shoulder. “Alright, Mighty Nein,” Beau called with a smirk on her face, “let’s move out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nott: are you okay?  
> Caleb: no off topic questions.
> 
> Translations:  
> Ja - “Yes”  
> Fantastisch - “Fantastic”  
> Drei meilen westlich, vier meilen nördlich, drei pro stunde, macht - “Three miles West, four miles North, three per hour makes...” (I think he’d revert to Zemnian when he has to focus on something complex)  
> Nichts - “Nothing”


	3. Frozen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was written by my sister! Give her some love in the comments! <3

Mollymauk Tealeaf was bored.

It felt like it’d been two and a half hours since they’d left their camp; the sun beating down on their backs, and there was absolutely nothing he could do do occupy himself for the rest of the trip to Carrown.

Molly sighed at his friends, all entertained by something. Even Caleb, the always-depressed-never-want-to-talk-to-anyone-wizard who was at the front of the group, was smiling.

Jester was singing a song, Fjord and Beau were laughing, Caduceus was waking with his goats, Caleb, Nott and Yasha were pointing ahead at rocks and hills, and Molly was in the back sulking with his hands in his pockets and his dark hair falling over his left eye. His swords were heavy at his sides as he attempted to shuffle his tarot cards in his hands. He growled, catching one as a gust of wind blew them from behind. A groan escaped his lips and he brushed his hair behind his ear.

“How much _longer_ are we going to be out here for, Caleb?” Molly yelled to the front of the group.

“Just a little longer, Molly. About twenty minutes,” Caleb exclaimed, as if he’d had a clock with him the whole trip. Molly wondered how he did that; always knowing what time it was. He was like a running clock himself. Every time they were lost, late, early, if someone asked what time it was, Caleb would know it with a snap of his fingers.Fjord turned back to look at Molly, a smile spreading across his face.

“Hey, Molly. Want to hear two short jokes and a long joke?” He asked, slowing down to match Molly’s pace. Molly sighed.

“Sure.”

“Joke. Joke. Jooooke,” Jester, somehow suddenly at his side, burst into laughter, as did Fjord.

Molly looked at them, emotionless, and blinked before shaking his head and jogging up next to Caleb.

“Hey, Caleb?” Caleb jumped. Molly tilted his head. Caleb has been jumpy the past few days; this morning, last night. The smallest bits of noises startled him. Molly wondered if it had something to do with his past. It usually did when it was Caleb.

Out of anyone, Caleb had the hardest past. He’d murdered his parents at a young age,and was later taken to Vergesson Sanatorium where he met Nott. Molly didn’t know much else, except that the scars on his arm came from the crystals his abusive teacher had shoved inside them to ‘amplify his magical abilities’.

“ _Ja_?” The wizard closed his book, interrupting Molly’s thoughts, and turned to look at the tiefling.

“Uh, just a quick thought. What’re we going to do once all of this Empire and Rebels stuff ends?” Caleb stared at him with a confused look in his eyes. The same look he gave Molly when they’d first met, and when they showed up at the circus and Molly had greeted them. It was a look Molly would always remember; something that would always be in his life. It was as if Caleb was trying to read him like an open book, except all the pages inside were locked.

“I don’t know,” he turned to look back over at the mountains, “I might stay with Essek a while; learn a few more spells.”

Molly rolled his eyes at the sound of the elf’s name. They’d never gotten along—Essek was always trying to one-up him, prove that he was in charge. The thought of Caleb staying with some suspicious drow elf who cared only about himself made Molly cringe. He wore _makeup_. What kind of an elf does that? Oh wait. All of them. And it wasn’t that he didn’t care about Caleb, Molly just didn’t trust him.

“Him? Caleb, seriously? He’s so...” Molly trailed off, his eyes finding Caleb’s right hand. It was held off to the side, and the wizard was holding his books in his left hand instead. It was curled slightly into a fist. Molly shrugged, “You’d still stay with us every once and a while though, right? You wouldn’t stay with him _all the time?”_ Caleb smiled as Molly looked up at the sky, groaning.

“ _Was ist los_ , Molly?” Molly tilted his head, ears and tail all flicking in confusion.

“What?”

“I asked you what’s wrong,” The wizard smiled. His Zemnian words made no sense, and he always mixed them in with his English, only making him _more_ confusing. Molly shook his head and turned back towards Yasha.

“You already know what’s wrong, Caleb,” He shook his head, slowing down next to the barbarian.

“Wait—Molly, where are you going?” Molly ignored him and turned to walk alongside Yasha.

“Hey, Tealeaf,” She grinned, sheathing her axe on her back and wrapping and arm around him. Molly’s eyes widened.

“Wait, what are you doing? No. Yasha please don’t—“

“Shut up, you scaredy cat. I’m bored too,”Yasha interruptedhim and she craned her neck back towards Jester, “Hey, Jester. Go to the other side of that field over there.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” The Tiefling obeyed, hurrying across the green grass and running by a few deer on the way over. When she made it, she held a thumbs up and Yasha smirked. Molly’s eyes widened more and he looked pleadingly up at Yasha.

“Yasha, please. Please do not pick me up right now, I don’t want that. Please,” He tried to scramble away as Yasha’s arm wrapped around his stomach. He clawed at her arm, a whimper escaping his lips.

“Please,” he whispered. 

“Alright, Jester! Catch-“

“Yasha. That’s enough.” If Caduceus hadn’t been there, Molly’d probably be on the other side of the field by now. “You’ve had your fun for now. Throw Mollymauk around a different time.” 

Yasha rolled her eyes, her gaze finding a tree on top of a hill nearby. “Fine. But what else are we supposed to do?” Yasha growled and promptly dropped Molly back on his feet and he stood there, stiff. Throwing Molly around was Yasha’s favorite definition of ‘fun’. She’d thrown him to Beau once, but that only ended in a broken arm and a concussed Beau.

Molly and Yasha went back a while; well, a few years. She had met him in a tavern, confused and scared with his dragon silk coat and fortune cards sitting alone at a table. He remembered her asking if he was alright and sitting down next to him, a smile across her face. She’d introduced herself and made small conversation before asking if he wanted to come back to the circus with her. He’d accepted, and eventually told her that the last thing he remembered was dirt in his face. Since then, she’d been like a sister to him; protective and always ready to fight for him. Fjord pushed him gently on the back, startling him and causing him to jump.

Molly started walking, glaring at Jester as she ran across the field once more, her face full of disappointment. There was a tug at Molly’s belt, and he looked down to see Nott pulling at his swords.

“Nott...? What are you doing?” The goblin, shocked at him noticing she was there, looked up at his red eyes.

“Well... I was going to go over there and kill that really big buffalo thing, and then Caleb said no so I came back here to get your swords so I could kill Caleb instead.” Molly’s jaw dropped.

“ _What_? Don’t do that. Why on Earth would you kill Caleb?” Beau burst into laughter.

“I’m only joking, Molly!” Nott snickered, scrambling up to the front of the line next to Caleb.

Of course she was behind the joke. She was always behind the jokes played on Molly.

“Oh my gosh, your face! Did you see your face, Molly?”

“No, it’s my face. I can’t see my own—woah,” Up ahead at the end of the path was a large town surrounded by walls of bricks and stone, a gate at the very front where two guards were standing motionless, emotionless, at each side.

“That’s strange; why is there a carriage stopped in the middle of the road?” Caduceus asked, walking up to Caleb’s side. Molly followed, his tail catching on a stick halfway up to the gate. He growled at it, a curse following him pulling his tail free and a splinter finding its way into the tip.

“Hello?” Molly ran up to the carriage as Caduceus tried to get the farmer’s attention. The farmer didn’t blink, and didn’t appear to be breathing either. Molly sighed as Jester screamed.

Everyone turned to look at her. She was up by the gate, one guard at her feet, as if he’d just fallen over.

“I tapped him on the shoulder and he fell over,” she walked away from him, biting her lip. The other guard didn’t move or blink either. He just stood there.

“Maybe we should go inside. Maybe everything’s okay inside the walls.” Beau exclaimed, walking forward and opening the gate. She walked in, the rest of the Nein following her in.

The town was beautiful; a brick pathway with wood buildings and stands along the street. There were about a hundred people in the town square, but nobody was moving, just like the guards outside.

People in the stands were sitting with their mouths open, some holding items out.

There was an owner with a dog next to him, both frozen in place, and Molly walked over to him, waving a hand in front of his face. He clapped, danced around. The man didn’t flinch, so Molly gave up and slapped him in the face. Still no actions from the man, nor his dog.

“There must be something strange going on. Maybe this is just a dream, is this just a dream? Somebody pinch me,” Beau exclaimed, as Nott promptly pinched her hand with her fingernails, “Ouch!” Beau growled down at Nott.

“You said to pinch you!”

“I didn’t mean that hard!”

“Stop arguing. We need to figure out what’s going on here,” Caleb whispered, feeling each individual that was around him, “They all have a pulse, but they’re all as cold as ice.”

“What is going on?” Molly asked, looking around at the dancing children and the couples who had been walking down the street.

“I don’t know, Molly.” Yasha murmured, squinting her eyes and turning.

“Caleb, do you think it had anything to do with-“

“Molly, shh. I’m concentrating.” Caleb held his hands out, muttering something as a glow flicked off his fingers. “Beau, there is no magic here, but somehow, I don’t know how... everybody is frozen.” Molly gasped.

“Everybody?”

“Everybody.” Caleb scratched his chin and cast another spell. He shook his head again, “Nothing.”

“Any ideas?” Fjord asked. Everyone shook their heads, worried looks on their faces.

“I don’t know how, but we’re the only ones not frozen right now. And we’re going to have to find a way to fix it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly: are we there yet?  
> Caleb: bruh chill I don’t know why you in a big time rush  
> *big time rush theme starts playing*
> 
> Translations:  
> Ja - Yes  
> Was ist los - “What is wrong”


	4. Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not all the chapters are gonna be posted this fast but here have another one!

_Detect magic_ was showing nothing. Caleb _knew_ that some sort of external force was at work here—why else would an entire town be frozen in place, as if everything had just suddenly... stopped? There had to be some sort of magic at play, but he knew his spell was working, and he wasn’t sensing anything.

Caleb continued to walk amongst the human statues, checking them for anything out of the ordinary. Well, anything _more_ out of the ordinary. He frowned as he considered the events from the past several hours. He’d slept completely peacefully, which had seemed alright on its own, but it was rare that he didn’t at least have some negative aspect in his dreams. They hadn’t come across a single bandit, feral animal, plant, or otherwise on the road, and they could typically make it only an hour or so without an encounter that lead to a fight. And there was the amulet.

Caleb would admit, the amulet had seemed a little strange when they’d first picked it up on their previous mission, but he hadn’t thought to investigate it. He’d simply decided the runic markings were unimportant and intended on selling it for book money or enchanting it. Now, though, he was certain it was somehow linked to the town of statues. He’d considered that maybe the amulet had cast a spell that froze everyone, but not only did Caleb’s _detect magic_ spell give him blank results _then_ , as well, but the Nein were all completely fine.

Something wasn’t right. But Caleb had absolutely no explanation for it.

He let out a short sigh as he turned towards the rest of the group. They were all watching him expectantly, save for Molly, who was shifting back and forth on his feet and restlessly shuffling his tarot cards in his hands. Molly was anxious about the whole situation; Caleb could tell. The Nein had been with the tiefling long enough that they knew his tell; he only ever got this fidgety or eccentric when he was uncomfortable about something. In any other situation, Molly was flawless, fabulous, and a thousand other elegant adjectives that Caleb could never hope to achieve. In scenarios like this, though—he couldn’t stand still, his tail was flicking anxiously, and he had a slight frown clashing with his usually happy persona.

Caleb didn’t much like when something changed the demeanor of their group, or anyone in it. He liked consistency. Yasha sometimes cried if the situation was stressful or depressing enough. Jester would shout on occasion if something truly upset her. Nott would occasionally be found cowering behind someone else. Beau had a tendency to ramble when she was nervous. Caduceus had always looked completely unforgiving of people that hurt members of the group. Fjord appeared terrified whenever signs of his patron were around. And then, of course, there was Molly, who was acting the most abnormal now as Caleb had maybe ever seen of him.

Caleb cleared his thoughts and uncomfortably scratched the back of his neck. “I think now may be a good time to talk about what happened this morning.”

Nott’s expression didn’t change; she must’ve known he wasn’t being truthful when he told her nothing had happened just a few hours before. No surprise. They’d been companions for long enough that they knew pretty much everything about each other. The rest of the group, however, was clearly confused. Molly spoke up first. “Does this have to do with why you’ve been using your left hand instead of your right?”

Yasha turned towards him with an expression somewhere between astonished and judgmental. Caleb didn’t question it; he’d learned that asking Molly for explanations tended to have the opposite effect of what he’d hoped for. He usually ended up going off on a tangent that only confused his audience further. Caleb began to fumble with his bag, slipping it off his shoulder and beginning to dig through it in search of the amulet. “It does, Mollymauk.” He didn’t argue when Caduceus stepped towards him, beckoning for Caleb to let him examine his hand. “Do you all remember the necklace we found when we were investigating the caves near Rexxentrum?”

“Oh, yes!” Jester blurted, nodding her head furiously. “It was so pretty! You wouldn’t let me keep it, though. You said it was too suspicious.”

Caleb ignored the latter part of her comment, instead continuing where he left off. “I saw it glow this morning, and when I picked it up, it burned my hand. But after I dropped it, it was cold again.”

“Quite the burn,” Caduceus mumbled, reaching towards his belt to grab something.

“Do you think the necklace did this?” Beau questioned, raising an eyebrow as she poked a man in the shoulder who was frozen to her left.

“I considered it, _ja_.” Caleb pulled the amulet from his bag and rose to his feet, right arm still outstretched while Caduceus applied a salve and gently began to wrap it. “But when I cast _detect magic_ , I got nothing.”

“Plus, none of us are frozen,” Fjord said.

Molly stepped around a couple of children and approached Caleb, gesturing for him to hand over the necklace for investigation. Caleb obliged, holding it out and carefully dropping it into Molly’s hand. Before the Nein, Caleb never would’ve handed something so—so mysteriously _valuable_ to someone. He couldn’t trust anyone else with something that could be so powerful. But since they’d begun traveling together, he’d learned that he _could_ trust them, and, also, that he didn’t know everything that the others did. It was entirely possible that Molly or any of the others present could decipher the runes that seemed like pointless designs to him.

Caleb had certainly been outsmarted in the past. When he was blinded by fear or anger of something bubbling up from his past, Beau and Nott had stepped in and made him see reason. Fjord and Yasha has spoken to apparent threats in the past and saved everyone’s skins. Caduceus and Jester knew more about healing and medicine and could help in a situation that called for it. Molly was fantastic at interacting with others and could often slip them out of a situation if necessary. Caleb wasn’t sure he’d have survived this long on his own. He had to admit, though—this trusting relationship amongst their whole group was new to him, and he didn’t really know how to take it.

Caduceus finished wrapping Caleb’s hand and took a step back, and Caleb mumbled a short “ _danke_ ” and gave him a grateful nod. He focused his attention back on the violet Tiefling in front of him.

“Some of this—some of the engravings on here look Infernal. Certainly not all of them, but this, here...” Molly traced his finger along a symbol that looked like a cross between an anvil, a sphere, and one of the mysterious dodecahedrons from early on in their quests, with embellishments like mist trailing off the sides. “I think this is the symbol for _Alemon_ —the Worldbuilders.”

“I’ve heard that word before,” Beau said, a slight frown playing at her features. “In stories, I think. If I remember correctly, they were a sort of higher power that would follow teams of adventurers on their quests.”

“Me, as well.” Caleb’s mouth had moved before his head could stop it.

At Soltryce, Ikithon had once attempted to teach him, Astrid, and Eodwulf a spell that could help them travel between planes of existence. Between the mortal realm, that of the nine hells, the elementals, among several others. Ikithon had mentioned the _Alemon_ in his lecture, and Caleb looked into it a little further the next time he went to the library.

Caleb shook away the thoughts and continued. “They are said to exist in a plane outside our own, and as they follow, they have the power to influence events as the adventurers live through them.”

“What, you think one of these—these creepy _entities_ is stalking us?” Fjord spluttered, glancing around as if he’d be able to see one.

Caleb didn’t really know. From what he remembered, not just every band of adventurers was followed; only those who were worthy and had an interesting story. Almost like choosing a book at a library, Caleb decided. He wouldn’t read a book just because it was there. It would need a promise of something that would make it difficult to put the book down. Though, as he thought about it, the Mighty Nein did seem like the kind of group stories would be written about.

He’d thought about it before, after he finished reading the biographies of the adventurers who called themselves Vox Machina. Caleb had even thought to compare their two groups. Same number of people, with a wide variety of backstories, missions, and abilities. Difficult adventures that took a toll on the whole group. Death, heartbreak. They were the kind of group one of these beings would follow.

And if the Mighty Nein were similar to them, in any aspect... They were a large group, made up of misfits with different life stories and goals, and they’d certainly had their fair share of detrimental quests. The fight with Lucien that nearly led to Molly’s death, the adventures on sea to help Fjord that had nearly been disastrous on several occasions, and countless others. Caleb wouldn’t be surprised if they were being followed.

“I think that this is our only lead,” Yasha spoke up, cutting through Caleb’s thoughts before he could make a comment on them. “And if that’s the case, we need to get to work on finding whoever this is.”

“That is the problem,” Caleb said, “they cannot just be _found_. There are no accounts that one of them has ever even visited our plane of existence.”

“But we do have this.” Molly held up the amulet, the metal glinting in the moon sunlight.

“You said it got hot this morning, right? What if it gets warmer as you get closer to the person?” Jester finally spoke up.

Caleb glanced at her, then back at the necklace, and an echo of murmured agreements rang out from the rest of the group.He almost thought to argue with her, since it had only warmed up for a second earlier that morning, but maybe she had a point. Maybe the sudden warmth was signaling that something was wrong with whomever it belonged to. Maybe it meant that they had suddenly appeared on the Nein’s plane of existence. Whatever it _did_ mean, Caleb agreed with Yasha; this was their only lead. Might as well give it a try... what did they have to lose?

He gave a nod of agreement, and it was as if someone flipped a switch. In a split second, everyone was standing back from Molly, and Molly had his hand outstretched, the amulet resting on his open palm as he slowly began to spin in a circle. His eyes were closed, Caleb noted, as if he was focusing every bit of his attention on detecting the temperature of the amulet. A compass focused in the back of Caleb’s head as Molly turned.

North. Nothing. A few seconds, then west, and still nothing. Caleb wasn’t sure this was going to work. Surely, statistically, Moly would’ve noticed something by now... right? South. He kept spinning. The seconds seemed to be ticking by slower and slower, the clock in Caleb’s head shifting in slow motion. And then he stopped. _Southeast_.

“It’s not much, but—I swear I felt it heat up, just a little.” Molly’s voice was quiet, but he sounded confident. Caleb took a step towards him, reaching his own hand out and touching the necklace with the tips of his fingers.

He didn’t feel anything.

“It still feels cold.” He didn’t want to spoil Molly’s thunder, but he didn’t want the group to get false hope, either.

Molly’s hand fell, the amulet taught in his grasp, and he turned towards Caleb, gaze narrowed. “It wasn’t that much of a difference, but it’s _definitely_ not cold.”

Caleb frowned. He couldn’t argue with Molly’s confidence. If Molly believed something, it would take a thousand counter arguments to continue him otherwise, and even then it might be impossible. But what if Molly was so hopeful that he’d simply thought he felt something? Caleb didn’t want to risk putting the group in danger off of an unproved claim. Yet, he trusted Molly, and if he said he felt something, shouldn’t Caleb believe him? When did he become the group advisor? He wasn’t sure.

“What if Molly can feel it because he can read the runes?”

Caleb wasn’t sure who spoke, but his thoughts skidded to a halt at the comment. He glanced at the necklace for a moment more, then gave the slightest of nods. “ _Ja—ja_ , that would make sense. None of them made sense to me, but perhaps, since you understand them...”

“That would mean that the fate of all of these people would rest in your hands, Mollymauk.” Caduceus’ tone was soft, but reassuring. “Are you that certain that you felt something?”

Molly nodded, gaze wandering back to the necklace. “Yes. _Yes_ , I’m sure.”

“Then we will follow your lead.”

As the group shifted to pick up their discarded bags, Molly met Caleb’s gaze. His eyes were questioning, almost as if he were daring Caleb to challenge him. “I trust you, Mollymauk,” was all Caleb said.

Molly nodded again, and took a step back. “Alright. Good.” He held up the necklace again, running his fingers along the metal. Then he took one step towards the Southeast, sealing their fate. “Let’s go find us a deity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caleb, pointing at the amulet: I am confusion.
> 
> Translations:  
> Danke - “thank you”  
> Ja - “yes”


	5. Grounded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter by my sister! Drop some love!

Caleb was letting Molly lead the group. Of course he was. Molly had never been much of a leader; well, of the memories he had, but he’d always wanted to be in charge. Fjord and Beau seemed to be the ones always making decisions for the Nein, always seemed like the ones in charge. But this time, Molly was the leader.

They’d left Carrown about ten minutes ago; Molly leading them down the winding paths of Wildemount’s terrain. Caleb had been at his side the entire time; asking if the amulet was getting warmer. Which, every now and then, it did. The amulet hadn’t been cold since they’d left, but it wasn’t really _hot_ either.

Molly shivered as thoughts filled his head; more thoughts like the one he’d had after first touching the amulet. He’d decided that they weren’t important, so he’d let the first one by, but then a second one, then a third were in his head.

The thoughts were more like memories, which Molly knew couldn’t be true, for he’d woken up in a grave just a few years ago with no idea who he was or anything of the sort. The only thing he did know was the name that was carved into the grave: Lucien.

Molly shook his head. Death, or even the thought of it, always made him a little uncomfortable, considering the incident that had happened with the caravan and a tall warrior named Lorenzo. Molly, out of anyone, remembered the battle very well. Well, sort of. The last thing he did remember from the battle was a sword’s blade through his chest, before everything in his body went numb and he’d been sucked into the darkness. He’d woken up on the couch in their house, with Caleb at his side and Caduceus with a bowl of hot soup standing next to him. Molly remembered how tired Caleb had looked; his eyes swollen and bloodshot, as though he hadn’t slept in days. He also remembered how relieved that Caleb was to see that Molly had survived. Caleb wasn’t a hugger, and he’d hugged Molly that day, muttering Zemnian words that Molly couldn’t understand.

He’d never asked Caleb what he’d said. It never really came to mind. But it did when the strange tiefling showed up in memories and thoughts that he couldn’t put his finger on to where she was from.

She was beautiful in all of it; violet with bright blue eyes that sparkled in the moonlight. Her tail darkened to black at the end where a small charm was pierced into the tip. In the current memory that he was thinking through, she was singing a song in devil’s tongue, which would seem as if it couldn’t be beautiful; but coming out of her mouth, it was. Molly only recognized a few words.

“Shine bright, my little star. Don’t let them overcome you.” That’s all he could make out. Her voice was very soft and calming, as of the waves of the ocean themselves had calmed down.

The trees around him swayed; not like wind, but as if the world around him was changing. He could see her, the tiefling. She was sitting on a rock that hadn’t been there before, singing her song as everything seemed to change as if of that like the memory. He gasped, his breathing growing heavy before he fell backward and was sucked into darkness.

-CR-CR-CR-

“Molly? Are you alright?” Voices filled the air and Molly opened his eyes to make out the blurs of his friends. His stomach ached, and his arms legs hurt. He groaned, leaning his head back before closing his eyes again.

“Molly? Molly!” Beau slapped him and was suddenly in front of him, her eyes pleading while her chest heaved. Molly blinked.

“You look shaken up, Molly. _Was ist los?”_ Caleb was kneeling next to him, Frumpkin on his shoulders flicking his tail gently.

“Molly, your eyes went white. You fell backward into me. We had no idea why. Is everything alright? Are you ill?” Yasha placed a hand on his shoulder, and he realized he was propped up against a tree, everyone looking down at him. Even Fjord looked concerned, his eyebrows raised above his bright yellow eyes.

Caduceus made his way over to the tiefling and placed a hand on his forehead, and checking his pulse and breathing to make sure everything was alright.

“ _Veir_?” Caleb flinched and Molly shook his head, realizing he hadn’t spoken English, but the language that the tiefling had spoken. “Never mind. I’m fine. I just- Ouch.” The amulet was getting warmer in his hands now. And it wasn’t just getting warmer, it was _glowing_. A bright red that shone into Molly’s eyes.

“I do not not know if he is ill, but I think he definitely has a fever, Yasha. He could use some sleep. That’s the best cure for a simple fever.” Yasha nodded at Caduceus’ words.

“Do we need to rest? Are you tired? Molly, you need to tell me what happened,” Yasha exclaimed, her voice eager and full of worry all at once. Caleb looked up.

“What if- I don’t know. Maybe the amulet caused Molly to pass out randomly the way he did. His eyes are red. Why would they suddenly just turn white? Yasha, has that ever happened before?” He asked, as Frumpkin promptly stuck his tongue out at at Molly.

“Yeah, I can do that too,” Molly stuck his tongue out back as Yasha turned to look at Caleb and shook her head.

“No. Molly has passed out before, but not like that,” She mumbled, her eyes trailing of to look at Molly, ”Molly, look at you. You look so tired. Caleb, I think we should rest; Molly passed out, and Caduceus thinks he has a fever. I don’t think we should go on until he feels better. Or at least looks better. We can’t continue to make him read the runes on the amulet and lead like this.” Caleb’s eyes found the ground, but he nodded in agreement anyway, standing up and brushing his tattered coat off.

“Of course. But I think we-“

“You all rest. I will take first watch,” Yasha said, popping down on the ground and falling against the same tree as Molly. Everyone else nodded and either walked down to the river, or lied down sleep,

He brushed a strand of hair from his face, sighing as he leaned against Yasha’s shoulder.

Yasha, since the battle with Lorenzo, had been the only one that could keep Molly from his nightmares and flashbacks. She was always there for him, at night and at day. Since the first night he’d had nightmares, Yasha’s voice was the only thing that could calm him down. She would read to him, sing to him, anything.

Molly on the other hand, had no idea how to read. Well, maybe he did, deep down, but he couldn’t remember. As much as he wished he did, he couldn’t.

He turned his head, looking to make sure everyone wasn’t paying attention, before looking at Yasha.

“Yasha?” He piped up, “do you think Caleb could teach me how to read?” Yasha looked as though the world had stopped spinning. Molly looked down at the ground as she smiled, her face falling soft and sweet.

“Yes, I’m sure if you asked him, of course,” she exclaimed, looking up into the dark treetops.

“I mean- I probably already know how, I just can’t remember,” Frumpkin padded over to his side, rubbing his head along Molly’s leg, “Hi, Frumpkin.” He pawed at the Tiefling’s tail as it flicked.

A low noise rumbled in Molly’schest and he looked at Yasha before blinking and shaking his head.

“I don’t know what that was,” his eyes widened as the noise started up again, rumbling somewhere deep down inside his chest, “Stop that,” he growled and slapped his chest.

“Was is that noise? Is Frumpkin-“ Caleb sat up and smiled, looking at Molly as a small laugh slipped past his lips, “Molly, you are purring. Just like Frumpkin.”

“What?”

“I said you are purring. But I think you already knew that I said that. I think you just do not want to accept the fact that you are acting like a cat,” Caleb stated, amused. He set his head back down on the trunk of a tree and held up his book to his face, a snicker coming from behind it.

“It’s okay, Molly. I still love you. I don’t care if you’re a cat or not. You’re still my best friend,” Yasha smiled and Molly rolled his eyes.

“If I was a cat, it would at least be normal for me to be purring. No other tieflings that I have met purr.”

“That’s okay. It’s what makes you special. That’s like me. I have my own traits that make me different then others. You know, I bet you even Lord Percival de Rolo has traits that make him special. Actually, I take that back. _Everyone_ is different. Everyone is-“

“Yasha, I am not feeling... great.” Molly muttered, closing his eyes while a groan escaped his lips. His head hurt, as did his legs from falling earlier. Yasha placed her hand on his head and gently placed her sword on the grass next to her.

“Maybe you should listen to Caduceus then and get some rest. We don’t want you passing out later. We still don’t know what’s actually going on.”

“Right but-“ the amulet was glowing again. Differently; Not like last time. Now it was orange, and it was hotter then before. Molly took a closer look at it, it’s orange light almost blinding him as a word made its way onto the surface of the gem.

 ** _West_**.

Molly sat up. The amulet was telling him where to go.

He stood up, ignoring the fact that everyone else was still sitting and trying to sleep, before he took off in the direction the amulet was pointing. His head was throbbing now, and he was still dizzy. He should’ve waited for Yasha.

“Molly! Where are you going?” Her words were growing faint as he ran further into the dark, underbrush of the forest as the necklace grew hotter in his hands.

The swords at his sides grew heavier, as did the belt around his waist and the coat on his shoulders. How much longer could he take of this? Would he make it to the location of the Worldbuilder?

The world spun and he collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily as Fjord made his way to the tiefling’s side.

“What are you doing?” He helped him up and placed and arm around his shoulder, keeping him from falling again. Molly stared off into the distance, letting the retirees and grass come back into focus before he turned to look at Caleb.

“Dizzy...” he muttered as Fjord gently gave him to Yasha. He fell into her chest, her hands stroking the back of his head and her soft words filling his ears.

“Mollymauk, what has happened? Are you alright?” Caduceus was at his side as well now, asking questions that Molly couldn’t make out. He shook his head slightly and turned his head against Yasha’s chest.

“Amulet... west... there,” he pointed, the world spinning as he looked up, a small hut about a hundred feet in front of them, smoke rising from a small opening in the thatched roof. This was where the amulet wanted him to go. This was where they would find the Worldbuilder. This was the beginning of a new quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly: *singing*  
> Caleb: *holds out the amulet like a microphone*  
> Molly: *grabs the microphone*  
> The Nein: *screaming*
> 
> Translations:  
> Was ist los - “what is wrong” (Zemnian)  
> Veir - “what“ (Devil’s Tongue)


	6. Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been looking forward to writing this chapter since we started this story... hope y’all enjoy!

Everything had happened so fast in the past hour and a half that Caleb was nearly clueless about what he should focus on. His heart said _Molly_ , but his mind argued that the small building in front of them was more important. Mollymauk had passed out once and nearly a second time, the latter because of his inability of listening to instructions, he’d discovered that he had the ability to _purr_ , and he’d lead them right to... well, whatever this place was. But despite the positive outcome, the strange demeanor that had taken over Molly’s persona was worrisome. Not only the passing out; Caleb had seen Molly staring off into the distance as they walked, eyes unfocused on the world and focused on something else instead.

He recognized the expression, having worn it himself many times before. As if his body was moving without his control as his mind replayed some old memory in his head. Sometimes good, yes, but usually bad. Caleb had learned to hide it. It seemed Molly had not.

The sudden oncoming of so many things at once... it seemed a little unnatural. Magical, even.

Caleb suddenly wasn’t so sure that he should be letting Molly carry the amulet anymore.

Not that he didn’t trust the Tiefling; Caleb would throw someone’s life on the line if Molly promised to protect them. It was more that Caleb knew it was dangerous, and he’d rather put himself in harm’s way than someone else. So he held out his hand, gesturing for Molly to hand it over. Molly was dazed enough that he didn’t even try to argue, and Caleb let out a quiet sigh of relief when the metal dropped into his palm. He then raised his other hand above Molly’s head and mumbled the words to a simple healing spell that Essek taught to him.

His hand glowed a deep red for three or four seconds, and, as if on cue, Molly furiously blinked his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Caduceus appeared at Caleb’s right, one hand falling on his shoulder as he knelt down and reached out to place the back of his other against Molly’s forehead. “The fever’s nearly gone.” His gaze fell onto Caleb. “Where did you learn that spell?”

Caleb drew his shoulder away from Caduceus’ touch and discreetly slipped the amulet into a pocket on his jacket, smiling sheepishly. “Essek. The last time we were in Xhorhas.”

He rose to his feet and focused his attention on the small house just ahead. It was built from stone, though it appeared it hadn’t been cleaned off for some time, if the foliage and vines growing over the rocks and windows. There was clearly a fire going in the fireplace; smoke was drifting into the air from the chimney. Caleb took a step forward, tilting his head as he looked the place over. Not the kind of place he would’ve thought to search for one of the mystical _Alemon_. He would’ve imagined a palace. A tower, maybe. Not a small hut where anyone could live.

Even still... if the amulet was what caused Molly’s strange behavior, just as it had burned Caleb earlier and started this whole strange quest... If whoever they were looking for was here, and could help, they couldn’t risk missing them. Caleb was walking towards the building before anyone could reach out to stop him or step in front of him.

“Caleb, wait—“ Beau’s voice rang out but he ignored her. “Oh, or not. Okay.”

Gravel crunching underfoot signaled her jogging up to his side. She didn’t say anything, instead looking over the building as he had before. Caleb sensed a few of the others hurrying to join them, as well, and as he glanced behind him, he saw Yasha and Caduceus helping Molly to his feet as the Tiefling tried to pull away to join them.

Caleb was grateful to have a team to look after him like this. It was foreign, sure. Something he wasn’t used to after his past. But he appreciated it nonetheless.

“You think _this_ is the place?” Nott questioned, frown evident in her voice.

“Molly thinks so,” Jester answered before Caleb could. “And I trust him.”

“Besides, I’d like to think that if this entity that controls our lives lives here...” Beau said, “maybe if he’s like us, he’ll be more inclined to help.”

Caleb wasn’t sure if that was how it worked. He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he pushed ahead, stepping up the small step in front of the door, and gently rapped his knuckles against the wood. The dull sound that echoed back at them left them all waiting in suspense. But there were no footsteps. No shouts of “coming!” Nothing.

Fjord reached past him, hand hovering over the brass door handle for a moment, then gently falling on it, twisting it, and pushing the door open. It creaked as it swung on its hinges, thrown wide to reveal the inside of the building. It was dark, save for the faint light emitting from the fireplace in the room to their right. Some of the foliage from outside had grown through an open window in the kitchen to the left. Straight ahead was a hallway that led to a staircase, the wood warped from a lengthy lack of care. Caleb coughed as a cloud of dust drifted up from the movement of the door. It didn’t look like anyone had been there in a long time.

The Nein shared uneasy glances, all waiting for someone else to step forward first. Beau took the initiative and cautiously walked inside, examining the kitchen first. Caleb’s gaze went to the fireplace. Sure, the place seemed unoccupied, but unless there was a spell cast to keep the fire burning—which was entirely possible—someone had to have been there recently enough to light it. Caleb branched off from the rest of the group and approached the living room, fingertips drifting against the wooden walls and nose crinkling up at the musty and humid smell of dust and overgrown plants.

If the place was clean, it would be a nice place for a person or a couple to make their living. Maybe even a small family. Away from civilization, surrounded by trees full of more than enough resources to get by. A decent kitchen, from what he could tell, and a spacious living room to relax. Based on what he’d seen, there was likely enough space for two or three more rooms upstairs. Caleb could arguably have lived here with his family, before the obvious.

He shook away the memories lingering at the back of his mind and instead focused on the task at hand; searching for an ancient magical deity who had control over their lives, choices, adventures... Caleb never would've thought to look for someone like him here. He stepped into the living room, aware of Fjord sauntering up behind him, and spared a look around.

He froze.

On the floor in front of the fireplace was the crumpled form of a _man_. He looked as if he’d been knocked out, or passed out, and had no time to catch himself before he went down. He was wearing a dark cloak that hid most of his features from view, but Caleb could make out a deep red tunic underneath and what appeared to be metal armor plated over his chest and shoulders. The cloak had golden embroidery around the edges, contrasting the deep brown hair that Caleb could just vaguely see underneath; it looked to be a similar length to Caleb’s.

“Jester!” Fjord called back towards the front of the house, “We may need a healer over here.”

Caleb approached the man and knelt down next to him, brow furrowing in concentration as he looked him over. Caleb pushed back the hood of the cloak, revealing the man’s clean-shaven square jaw and slightly parted lips. He was still breathing. Caleb’s gaze then trailed down to the armor. In the center of it was what appeared to be a gem of sorts; round, smooth, and a mixture of blues and violets. In the center of it was an engraving. Something that looked like—

_Like a cross between an anvil, a sphere, and one of the mysterious dodecahedrons from early on in their quests, with embellishments like mist trailing off the sides._

It matched the amulet.

Somehow, despite the completely ordinary appearance of the man in front of them; human ears, human face... this had to be the _Alemon_ they were looking for.

Jester suddenly appeared at his side, gently reaching a hand out towards the man’s face and looking him over. Caleb rose to his feet and took a step back, eyes darting back across the room.

Beau was standing at the side of a round table that sat next to a chair, curiously investigating a book that sat atop it. Fjord had remained by the doorframe and Nott was at his side. At some point, Yasha, Molly, and Caduceus had joined them. Yasha was pulling a cloth covering off of a large bookcase behind the table at which Beau stood. Molly was leaning against the opposite side of the doorframe, with an overall exalted aura about him as if he _hadn’t_ just collapsed from a fever. Caduceus was approaching Jester to lend a hand.

“You think this is who we’re looking for?” Fjord asked, tone laced with uncertainty.

Caleb’s gaze had just wandered back to the man when Beau’s voice rang out, shaky. “Yeah. I think it is.”

Caleb looked over at her, raising an eyebrow in question. She met his gaze then gestured towards the book. Caleb walked across the room and joined her at the desk, looking it over himself. Hard cover, a deep leathery shade, with hundreds of off-white pages bound inside. What caught Caleb’s attention, however, was on the words on the pages.

More specifically, the names. _Their_ names.

Caleb tenderly hefted the book from the table, skimming over the first few sentences on the paper.

_...wandering down the dirt pathway through the trees, the Nein turn their attention to the skies and catch the sun vanishing over the horizon. The wind blows faintly through the trees, rustling the leaves, Molly’s coat, and Caleb’s hair. They exchange glances, and Yasha speaks up. “We should stop for the night.”_

Caleb tore his attention away from the pages and met Beau’s gaze. “This was yesterday,” he said, unable to hide his surprise.

Beau nodded wordlessly. Caleb flipped the pages forward and was greeted with another page or two of words before they ended abruptly, and the rest of the book was blank. The last words appeared to be telling of breakfast that morning. Molly handing out plates to everyone, Caleb packing up his things. It ended just when the amulet would’ve glowed.

“Caleb,” Yasha called.

Caleb kept the book in his hand, closing it gently, and approached her, gaze falling on a book she was holding. A title was engraved onto the cover; _The Legend of Vox Machina._ The title of several books that he’d read before, all with different words and stories recorded within. She flipped to a random page, revealing the same handwriting as the book Caleb currently had in hand.

His mouth dropped open in surprise.

“What is it, Caleb?” Nott asked slowly.

He reached out and took the book from Yasha’s grip, hand gently brushing over the pages and gaze following faintly behind. “This—this...” he shook his head, astonished, and tried to find his words. “This man, this... entity, that controls our lives... he is keeping record of our story. The book that Yasha found, it means we are being followed by the same _Alemon_ that trailed the Vox Machina.”

Molly pushed away from the wall in a surprised trance of his own. If Caleb didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Molly’s expression was... a knowing one. As if he knew more than he was letting on, about Vox Machina. Caleb dismissed it as a trick of the light (or, the lack thereof) and instead closed the second book, as well. He hesitated, then pulled his bag off his back and gently placed both books inside. If anyone wanted to argue, they kept their opinions to themselves.

Caleb wasn’t trying to steal; he didn’t know what it was, really. A feeling that they’d need them later, maybe. To bargain with the _Alemon_ once he awoke? To have him rescue them later on in their quest? To keep him from impending on their adventures any further? Whatever the reason, his gut was telling him to keep them.

His thoughts were interrupted by a low groan on the other end of the room, and everyone present spun around to see Caduceus and Jester gently helping the man into a sitting position. His palm was pressed against the side of his forehead, as if he was in pain, and Caduceus quickly caught onto that fact, as well. He held his own hand over the man’s head and gently mumbled something, a faint glow resonating from his hand then disappearing. The man blinked a few times, then looked around. He blinked again.

“Okay... well, this is... unusual.”

His voice had an accent a little unlike any of their own, following more of a basic common rather than the drawn out vowels of Beau’s or the Zemnian twang of Caleb‘s own. His tone was firm, modulated, and gave off the impression that he was very expressive. His eyes were darting around to each of the Nein, brow furrowed slightly.

“Are you the _Alemon_? We’ve been looking for you!” Jester exclaimed, tone bright and inviting.

The man stared at her for a moment. “I’m not sure what you mean.” He glanced down at himself, expression twisting even further into confusion as he appeared not to recognize the clothes he had on. His gaze then went up and met Caleb’s.

“We are looking for someone who can help,” Caleb clarified, “as the town we left only a few hours ago is, ehm... frozen.”

“The people are all like statues,” Nott cut in.

“And it suspiciously happened after an amulet glowed.” Molly took a step towards him. “Then it led us here. Care to explain?”

The man mumbled something that none of them made out but it sounded vaguely like a confused swear. The fire sparked loudly and the flames started to diminish, and, in order to keep their sole light source available, Caleb held up his hand and cast a minor fire spell. The man’s gaze went to the fireplace and he watched as the flames leapt up to their previous glory. Then his eyes trailed back to Caleb. “This isn’t a joke.” He glanced over at the ever silent Fjord by the door, then at Yasha, and he shook his head. “You're being serious.”

Caduceus gently spoke before anyone could interrogate him further. “I apologize for my companions’ abruptness. Our situation is tense, and they seem to have forgotten their manners. My name is Caduceus. This is Jester, Mollymauk, Nott, Fjord, Yasha, Beauregard, and Caleb.”

The man nodded, though it seemed as if he recognized the names. _Of course he does,_ Caleb realized belatedly. _He’s tracking your adventures in a book._

“I know who you are,” he said, echoing Caleb’s thoughts, “and you can call me Matt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beau and Yasha: look at this **book**


	7. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another by my sister, with a welcome treat inside that I wasn’t expecting!

They were only about halfway back to Carrown and, so far, the entire trip was all about Matt.

Caleb went on asking about everything Matt could do, Jester wanted to know if he liked parties, Caduceus asked if he knew any healing magic. Or if he knew any magic at all. Molly was starting to get annoyed.

 _Did I_ not _just pass out? Or collapse in the forest and almost pass out again?_ He’d given the amulet to Caleb. But now he wondered if he shouldn’t have kept it for himself to see what else might happen to him. It was a greedy thing to think about, but at this point Molly didn’t even care.

“Matt, do you really control us? How much do you know?” Beau walked in front of the man, her questions filling the silent air, and Matt looked away. Molly rolled his eyes, his pace quickening.

“I know a lot, Beauregard. But I do not think it would be very safe for me to tell you such things. Especially when-“

“Awww, please? I’ll keep it a secret. I promise. I won’t tell anyone. Matt. Matt. Please?” Matt shook his head and gave her a stern look.

“Really? Last time Mollymauk told you a secret you told everyone.”

 _How did...?_ How could Matt possibly know about the fact that Molly had told Beau one of his secrets? How did he know that she told everyone in the group about it? Beau didn’t seem to care. Molly gave Matt a concerning look, but all he did was smile back. Beau interrupted Molly’s train of thought.

“Yeah, but he’s Molly. He doesn’t count in this conversation.”

 _Doesn’t count? Have I ever counted in their minds at all? Am I really that useless?_ Beau had always been one to give away secrets and judge people, but she’d never said anything like that about Molly before. He looked down at the dirt and gravel path in shame.

 _I’m not that helpful, no. But I’m more helpful than_ some _people._ His gaze found Caleb. He adored the wizard, yes, but did he ever really do anything for the group besides sit there depressed and heartbroken?

And the fact that Caleb had also seen something about Vox Machina in the hut didn’t make anything better. Especially when Molly knew one of the members. He’d met them. In person.

When Molly had been killed by Lorenzo, before they managed to save him, someone came to him. To talk to him. A half-elf, with wings like the feathers of a raven. He’d had long, black hair with beads throughout it and it had been tied back into a messy ponytail. He’d also worn some sort of armor that had feathers that looked to represent a kind of mantle. A raven beak was on the front by his chest, black and dark blue.

His name was Vax’ildan Vessar. Molly had been extremely disappointed to have to leave him alone in the grasp of the Raven Queen. She was vicious, hard to be around. She was the goddess of _death_. Who would ever give away a happy life to someone like her? Oh wait. Vax’ildan.

Molly felt the corners of his lips twitch upward before a smile spread across his face. Vax hadn’t talked to him since then, likely due to the rules he always talked about, but Molly had made a great friend that day. Not as much as Yasha, but he was following in a close second.

“Matt. Guess what,” Molly pouted at the sound of the Worldbuilder’s name in the air again. He looked ahead into the trees. He was already a few feet ahead of everyone else, but he sped up again anyway, trying to get as far away from the group as possible.

He turned his head, glad to see they were finally out of sight, and let the forest sounds fill his ears.

Tree branches rustled in the slight breeze, and the birds chirped gently around him. The gentle sound of a waterfall and river over rocks filled the air as well, coming in from the left. The river reminded him of the song the tiefling in his head had been singing, and her voice filled his ears again. But something was different this time.

Her voice was younger—no. It wasn’t her. It was a younger tiefling, a dark shade of mahogany with dark locks of hair around her horns.

But she was sitting with a tiefling the same violet colored as the woman from Molly’s daydream had been. And, Molly realized, he recognized them both. He couldn’t tell where from, but he knew he did.

“Where have I met you?” He whispered, trying to get closer to where the sound was coming from. Her voice was even more beautiful then the older tiefling’s; soft with slight vibrato and notes that held out against the wind. She reminded him of Beau. Beau had sang to him once, and this tiefling sounded just like her.

Maybe Beau was right. Maybe he really didn’t belong here. Maybe he never really had counted in any of their minds. Molly groaned.

“What am I _doing_ here? I don’t belong here. I belong in the ground. Buried away from happy groups like this- God _dammit_.” He tripped over a root and nearly hit the ground before a hand caught him around the waist and kept him from doing so, his nose an inch away from a rock.

“Woah there. Wouldn’t want to make your evening even worse by breaking your nose, Mollymauk.” Molly had expected it to be Yasha, but of course, it wasn’t. When the figure helped Molly stand, he recognized exactly who had caught him.

It wasn’t a woman, it was a man, with pointed ears surrounded by beautiful black locks of hair accented by the colored beads tied up and on the side. Molly gasped and embraced the half-elf in a hug.

“Vax? How- what?” Vax held up a hand to shush him and gently pushed Molly away. A smile spread across the champion’s face and his gaze found the trees.

“You looked a little lonely down here, so I came to check up on you. Everything alright, Mollymauk? No one has hurt you?” Molly shook his head as the paladin elegantly ruffled his dark feathers and ran a hand through his long, black hair.

“Vax, I’ve been lonely before. I’m used to it-“

“Nonsense! Molly, something is bothering you and I’m determined to find out what it is,” twirling a dagger between his fingers he flapped his wings gently, letting a small feather fall into his other hand before he tucked in behind Molly’s ear. “Is it Matt?”

Surprised at Vax’ildan’s knowledge of the Worldbuilder, Molly’s red eyes widened and he nodded.

“Ah, I see. Are you jealous of not getting the attention you’re used to? Or is it something else?”

“Vax!” Molly elbowed him playfully and cackled, “I’m not jealous.” Vax’s left eyebrow raised and he gave Molly a stern look. “I’m not!”

“What is it then?” Vax dropped the dagger on the ground and sighed before picking it up and sheathing it.

“Vax. It’s nothing. I promise,” Vax gave him another concerning, half believing look.

“Right. Well-“ a twig snapped in the distance and Vax’s gaze fell to the ground, ”it seems our time will be cut short, Mollymauk. I think someone else is coming to find you.” He pointed off into the distance, and Molly’s eyes squinted. He didn’t see anything, and when he turned back to look at Vax, only a raven was perched in a nearby tree. It crowed before spreading it’s wings and taking off.

“Molly?” He jumped at the sound of Yasha’s voice, ”Everything okay? You stormed off pretty fast back there.” He tuned to look at her and sighed, disappointed on Vax’s sudden departure. He really did miss the half-elf and his dry sense of humor. He nodded.

“Yeah. Just got a bit annoyed is all. I’m better now, though.” Yasha smiled.

“Why don’t we take your mind off it?” She walked over to the river and held her hands out over it. She gestured toward them, and looked at Molly. A smirk spread across his face as he trotted over to her and unsheathed his swords before stepping one foot onto her hands, the other one curling upward as he tossed a sword into the air, catching it with his tail as Yasha lifted him slightly higher.

It was a trick they’d come up with; in case they’d ever have to preform during the circus. They only ever did twice, but it was nice to have something besides rage and fortunes to perform.

Molly did a backflip off her hand and landed on one foot, before trying to catch his balance. He ended up falling into a nearby bush instead. A small yelp escaped his lips as an ant bit his arm and he swatted it off as Yasha helped him stand up.

“Not as flexible as you used to be, huh?”

“Are you calling me old?”

“No. I’m saying you need to exercise more.” She raised an eyebrow at him, “still. I didn’t expect you to accomplish that flip on the first try.”

“Haha, thanks for the encouragement, Yasha.” She smiled.

“No but seriously. Molly, you’re starting to gain-“

“I am not! If you want gaining weight, then talk to Fjord! Have you seen the amount of fish he ate at dinner the other night? It was repulsive.” Yasha snorted.

“As if you’re not repulsive yourself,” she mumbled sarcastically and ruffled Molly’s hair. She shook her head, “I’m joking, by the way. You’re right about Fjord.” A small devilish snicker passed Molly’s lips and he smiled.

“Do you wonder if Caleb worries about his weight ‘n stuff? You know. He’s Caleb...” Yasha shrugged.

“I’ve never really thought about it. I bet he used to. He might not anymore, but he was once a kid too. He did have a home.”

Molly smiled. Caleb was always there for him. But he’d never really cared about his appearance when he was around Molly and the group. Or even when they were in public for that matter. He never really ate _anything_. And that’s what worried Molly most.

Molly and Fjord cooperatively made meals for the Nein (even if Molly did most of the work) and everyone except Caleb always finished their servings. Some even got seconds. Caleb never managed to finish even one.

Deep down, Molly actually felt _bad_ for Caleb. He’d been through a lot and he was never really up to talk about any of it. Molly sighed.

“Yeah... Hey. Is that Carrown already?” The walls of the town showed gently between the trees, the frozen guards still in place at the gates; one frozen in place and the other still on the ground.

“Huh. Guess walking and talking works out. I like your feather by the way.” Yasha grabbed his forearm and they walked back to the path where they found the rest of the Nein walking.

“Thanks...?” She immediately departed and went up to the front, and Molly was surprised when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned and looked straight into the eyes of the Worldbuilder. He smiled gently and quickly let his hand slide off the tiefling’s shoulder.

“Molly, hey. I-uh- wanted to apologize. For everything.” Molly was shocked. Matt seemed to have ignored him since the beginning, and now he was giving him an apology. His shoulder length hair blew slightly in the wind before he turned around.

He mumbled another slow “sorry” under his breath before walking away into the afternoon sun towards the gates of the frozen city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly: when there’s too much drama at school all you gotta do is walk awayayay


	8. Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew this chapter was longer than I originally planned! Regardless, though, I think it’s an exciting one... hope you enjoy!

Optimistic wasn’t the word that Caleb was looking for to describe his feelings about Matt and the town. Optimistic implied positive outlooks, excited and bubbly personas. Sure, he felt a little confident that the mysterious man that they’d found unconscious in a hut in the middle of the woods would have the power to fix an entire town full of people frozen like statues. But he definitely wasn’t optimistic.

Expectant? Hopeful? Idealistic? None of the words really seemed to fit. Regardless, he really did hope Matt could do something. At the very least, maybe he could point them in the direction of someone better suited for the job. Caleb felt a little bad for underestimating his abilities. The stories he’d read at the academy always told of mystical beings, and he’d always pictured them like... glowing, wings, dramatic smoke. Matt didn’t fit into any of those categories. Descriptions were all speculations of course; an _Alemon_ had never been seen on their plane of existence. All the more reason for Caleb to doubt him, in all honesty.

Caleb let out a soft sigh as he caught up to the rest of the group, all standing outside the town and observing it with similar speculation to someone viewing a grimoire for the first time. Basically, unexplained confusion. Matt glanced over at him as he approached, eyes following him with a deeper emotion than simple observation. As if he was trying to read him like a book. Caleb felt a little self-conscious. He averted his gaze, eyes instead falling on Mollymauk, who was standing a few feet behind. He had a small feather tucked behind his pointed ear; definitely hadn’t been there while they were traveling, but Caleb assumed it had something to do with his and Yasha’s excursion ahead of the group a short while before.

“So...” Matt’s firm voice broke through the silence and Caleb’s thoughts.

The rest of the Nein looked at Caleb expectantly, who mentally cursed them all for always leaving him to do the explanations. He gestured for them to follow and cautiously walked through the town’s open gate. Something about it stirred up an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach as the sun began to set over the horizon. How long had the people been like this? Was everyone still safe? Was it only this town, or others? The approaching darkness seemed to make the already mysterious situation even more so.

A hand fell on his shoulder in the midst of his discomforting thoughts and he jumped. He looked over, stance tense, to see Caduceus looming next to him, brow furrowed in concern. “Are you alright, Mister Caleb? You appear to be a little on edge.”

Caleb forced a smile and nodded, though with the firebolg’s gentle gaze Meeting his, he was certain Caduceus would see through his facade. It wasn’t that big of a deal, really; Caleb just felt a little unnerved. Since Ikithon and the asylum, he never felt comfortable in unexplainable or out-of-the-ordinary situations. Regardless, he didn’t need the concern; there were others in the group who deserved it far more than him. “ _Ja_ , I am fine,” he answered, “ _danke_. Perhaps you should direct your concerns to Mollymauk? He _was_ the one with a fever only eleven hours ago.”

Caduceus chuckled at that. “I will never understand how you remember things so well.” He leveled his gaze. “You will tell me if something is bothering you, yes?”

“Of course.”

Caduceus gave him a final smile, then drew away, approaching aforementioned Tiefling and leaving Caleb on his own. He was just about to recede into his thoughts once more when Matt appeared at his side, tilting his head as he observed the scene in front of them. Caleb followed his eyes to the group of three children at the far end of the square, one with his hands stretched over his head another with a small toy in her hands, reared back to throw it, and the final standing off to the side, a wide grin on his face.

Matt rose a hand to his chin, appearing to be deep in thought as his forehead creased and his eyes narrowed. Then, gently, he mumbled under his breath. Caleb watched with arising surprise as his eyes shone a deep violet. An almost imperceptible mist rose in the air around him, a mixture of a similar violet color and a light turquoise blue. Caleb would’ve missed it were he not staring at Matt directly. Then, on cue, sound was bubbling up around them. People talking.

Caleb gaped and his eyes darted away from Matt, focusing on the three children as they suddenly resumed their game. The girl tossed the toy in the air, the boy trying to catch it just as the third boy jumped in between them both and snatched it out of the air. As if nothing had happened. His attention swiftly snapped back to the man standing next to him. “You just...”

Matt tilted his head, meeting his gaze. “I did what I _always_ do.”

The rest of the Nein seemed preoccupied with examining the scene around them. All of them except Molly. The Tiefling stepped towards them both, swiftly pushing past Caleb and grabbing Matt by the collar of his cloak. “You used magic.”

Matt stared at him incredulously, eyes dropping down to look at the hand firmly grasping his clothes, then wandering back up to Molly’s face. A frown emerged on his face. “No, I didn’t.” He took a step back, attempting to pull away.

Molly didn’t let him get far. Caleb wasn’t sure why Molly seemed so accusatory; had they not expected him to use his celestial magic to fix everything? Maybe none of them had been optimistic, as Caleb’s thoughts had revealed, but he did what they’d wanted him to. And Matt had been at his side the whole journey back; there was no time for them to exchange any words or create cause for an argument. Maybe the fever was causing something? Though, Caduceus had seemed unconcerned the whole journey back. He’d said the fever was nearly gone after Caleb cast the healing spell on him. Perhaps he’d argued with Yasha and was simply tense in general? Caleb hadn’t noticed anything unusual between the two of them. This outburst... didn’t make any sense.

Caleb stepped in and gently placed a hand on Molly’s wrist. “What did you say?” Molly demanded, then whirled around, attention now focused on Caleb. “What did he say?”

Caleb couldn’t help but flinch away slightly. Molly’s eyes were full of fire, expression angry. It brought a memory to surface of a bearded face, similarly furious, shouting at him for being a failure, ordering the nearby guards to take him to the asylum... a memory he never thought he could associate with _Molly_. “I—I did not...”

“Mollymauk.” Matt pushed in between them, separating them. He, too, could feel the tension taught as a bowstring in the air.

Molly wrenched away from his touch, snarling something at him in Infernal, and Matt took an uncomfortable step back to Caleb’s side. It took only a second after for Yasha and Beau to notice the situation and swiftly step forward. He shoved them away when they tried to pull him from the situation, and stalked back forward. Matt’s hands rose into the air, showing he meant no harm, and he gave an uncomfortable laugh. “Look, I didn’t cast a spell, if that’s what you think. I just thought of an event and it happened. It’s what I _always do.”_

Molly’s gaze narrowed even further. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Caleb didn’t have time to revel at Matt’s explanation—he was too busy wrestling his backpack off his back and rummaging through it. If what Matt was saying was true—it was just a hunch, really—maybe his words would be in the book. He didn’t write them, obviously, as the book had been in Caleb’s possession the whole time. But if his stories were always created through his thoughts rather than parchment and ink, then the words already printed on the pages had to have come from the same thing. He flipped through the first hundred, two hundred pages, and stopped on the last with words. He skimmed through the sentences, swiftly, eyes widening only slightly as he realized that there was more written than there had been before. And the last sentence; _as our adventurers continued on their journey, the townspeople went about their business as usual._

“Mollymauk,” he breathed, rising to his feet, though his gaze never left he book. “He is telling the truth.”

Beau and Yasha craned their necks as Caleb walked up to Molly, pointing at the last sentence on the page. They looked over the words, then met each other’s gazes in surprise. Caleb looked up at Molly expectantly. The Tiefling blinked at him, tilting his head. Then, to his surprise, Molly let loose a short _laugh_. _“Was?”_ Caleb demanded, shaking his head earnestly.

Then Yasha started laughing, too. Caleb stared at them incredulously. Were they _bipolar?_ Only two seconds before... “Caleb,” Molly said slowly, hand falling on Caleb’s shoulder, “I can’t read. This? This doesn’t mean anything to me.” He gestured loosely at the book.

Caleb could only watch him with growing confusion. Okay, yes, maybe he’d forgotten that minor fact, but they couldn’t really blame him. He was caught up in the situation. And, besides—how had Molly gone from shouting to laughing in a matter of seconds? It wasn’t really that funny. Well, he didn’t think so, at least. Molly and Yasha were, apparently, a different story. It took only a few seconds for Molly to regain his composure. He straightened his stance, exhaling slowly, then he leveled his gaze, focused this time on Matt.

“I’m sorry. I... I don’t really know what that was.”

Matt gave him a faint smile. Caleb felt a little relieved—at least he wasn’t the only one who noticed the strangeness of shat had just happened. His still raised hands slowly lowered to his sides. “Um... you’re fine, uh...“ he seemed to be searching for the right words to say.

Miraculously, Caleb was spared any secondhand embarrassment on Matt’s behalf; Molly spun on his heel and walked away. He left the both of them in utter silence. Caleb had seen his fair share of strange things before. Goblins dangling him from the ceiling and threatening to eat him. Fjord being suggested to marry a dragon, events that seemed impossible without divine interference. Somehow, though, this seemed on par with all of those.

Matt breathed out slowly, and Caleb turned to face him. “Tell me I’m not the only one that found that _really_ weird.”

Caleb couldn’t help but break into a slight grin. _“Nein,”_ he said simply.

Nott and Caduceus slowly approached them both, the former taking her place at Caleb’s side and the latter glancing between the both of them with nothing short ofamusement. Matt spoke up before either of them could say anything. “Caleb, what’s that book?”

Caleb’s eyes widened as he realized he’d gotten himself into quite a complicated situation. He could just lie about it, say it was one he got from a library and he’d known Molly would laugh at his “joke.” Nott had always called him a lousy liar, though, and he knew the story wouldn’t make any sense. Besides—he’d rather not risk incurring the wrath of an all powerful deity who could control their lives. He sheepishly looked away. “Well, ehm, about that...” Caleb gently closed the book and held it out for Matt to take. “It... belongs to you.”

“Oh?” Matt raised an eyebrow, gently taking the book from Caleb’s hands. His fingertips brushed over the cover, though he didn’t seem to recognize it, then he opened it and flipped to the first page. He blinked. “Well, that’s interesting.”

Caleb eyed him suspiciously, a frown making its way onto his features. Something wasn’t adding up here... the book clearly belonged to the Alemon that was following them. Matt had done something magic, as the town was now completely normal, and the words had appeared on the pages, yet... if he didn’t recognize it... Caleb didn’t have the slightest idea what could be going on. He’d never much liked being clueless.

“What is it, friend?” Caduceus asked, voice soft, imploring.

Matt’s frown deepened as he looked through a few more pages. He didn’t answer Caduceus; his eyes were trailing over the pages and his expression seemed to reflect both recognition and the lack thereof, at the same time. Caleb watched him closely, trying to catch any revealing changes in his face or stature, but there was nothing. Only that lingering sense that he knew the book, and yet _didn’t_. He startled them all when he closed the book with a harsh _snap!_ Caduceus watched him expectantly.

“I think I need a drink.”

-CR-CR-CR-

It took precisely eleven minutes and twenty-three seconds for the Mighty Nein to regroup and settle down in a local tavern. They’d found themselves at an inn known as the Dancing Dragon, two tables shoved together with an assortment of beers and ales set out in front of them. Caleb sat on the side of the table facing the door, on the chair furthest to the left. Matt was to his right and, next to him, Caduceus. To Caleb’s left, at the head of the table, was Nott, and across from her was Jester. Beau, Fjord, Molly, and Yasha were pressed together on the side opposite Caleb.

The eight of them were all expectantly staring at Matt, who took only a small sip from his drink before gently placing it on the table. He raised his eyes and looked around, meeting each of the Nein’s gazes in turn. “What I’m about to say won’t make a lot of sense. I need your word that you won’t interrupt me until I’m finished.”

They all mumbled their agreements, even a begrudged Molly, and Caleb gave the Tiefling a respectful smile. Matt nodded, though he seemed hesitant, and took a moment longer. Caleb assumed he was trying to find the best way to formulate his words. It was something Caleb himself did often; it always seemed to be a little more reassuring to have a statement planned out before it was spoken.

“Not that it matters,” he began, voice tense, “but the full name I go by is Matthew Mercer. I changed it for the sake of my job, but that’s... not the point. I’m an actor, basically, and what’s known as a Dungeon Master. I don’t want to say too much, ‘cause it could screw with the balance of the world and fate or some shit, but to put it on the most basic terms, I created Exandria. Not like a God who willed the world into existence, or anything like that. All of the deities in this world still exist—the Traveler, the Wildmother, the Raven Queen... I just designed it as a place for my friends to roleplay as characters inside of. And, here, if you need more proof that I’m no different from any one of you...” he lifted his left hand and displayed a gold band around his left ring finger. _Married_ , Caleb realized belatedly.

Jester broke into a wide grin and squealed excitedly. “That’s so _exciting_! Who are you married to? Is she beautiful?”

Matt didn’t seem bothered that she broke her vow to say nothing, and instead let a smile of his own play onto his features. “Yeah. Yeah, she is. Her name is Marisha.”

Caleb could almost swear he heard an underlying tone of longing in Matt’s voice. “You miss her,” Caduceus said, as if he’d read Caleb’s thoughts.

Matt met the firebolg’s gaze. “I don’t know how long it’s been since we last saw each other. My last memory before waking up here is getting out of bead with a pounding headache and passing out.” He sighed faintly. “To be honest, I almost wondered if this was all some comatose dream and I’d just wake up next to her, but... something about this whole situation just doesn’t seem very dream-like.”

“Yeah, I don’t much like the idea of just being part of someone’s dream...” Yasha mumbled uncomfortably, taking a swig of her ale.

Caleb gently placed his hand on top of Matt’s, who seemed startled at the sudden contact but glanced towards him with nothing short of gratefulness for the gesture. He searched Caleb’s expression for a moment, with that same manner of trying to read him like a book. “What I’m getting from this is that, to you, we’re all just stories.” Fjord spoke up for the first time, tilting his head in question.

“You want to go back home,” Nott added.

Matt didn’t say anything to that. He looked at Nott for a moment, with his same observing gaze, then wordlessly nodded his head. His gaze found the table and he remained silent. “Well, can’t you just will yourself to leave?” Jester asked.

“I tried,” Matt said. “Nothing happened.” A long sigh escaped his lips. “I may have created Exandria, but the rules still apply. I can’t just jump from one plane of existence to another, even with magic that I didn’t even know I fucking _had.”_

There had to be some way to fix this. Caleb was certain that Matt hadn’t intended to end up here—it was evident by his demeanor, the sadness in his voice as he spoke. Surely, there had to be a way to help him. Caleb didn’t have any tricks up his sleeve that could help. No favor of a God, no “wish” like Scanlan in Vox Machina’s story. Perhaps, though, there was someone that did.

“What if we talk to Essek?”

Molly shook his head furiously, narrowing his eyes at the mention of the elf. To put it simply, the two of them didn’t get along. Even still... Caleb had never met a more knowledgeable wizard, in both arcane and divine magic. If anyone would have an idea on how to solve this problem, it would be him. Molly would just have to suffer through it, he reasoned.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Fjord said, leaning forward and scratching his chin thoughtfully. “We’re headed to Xhorhas anyway, what harm is a little detour?”

Matt glanced between all of them, eyes widened slightly. He spoke, but his words didn’t quite meet his eyes. “You don’t have to go through the trouble—it’s okay, I’m sure I can figure this out—“

“Matthew.” Molly finally said something, and his tone was gentle, comforting. Like the way he’d spoken to Caleb after his flashback during their fight all those months ago. Like the way he spoke to any of the Nein if they needed comfort or a shoulder to cry on. “For one, we owe you after you travelled all the way here to help us. For two... we’ve never turned away from someone who needs help. Even if they’re an all-powerful being who created our world.” He winked. “And I _do_ think you need the help.”

“Besides, do you even have any professional training with that magic of yours?” Beau asked playfully.

Matt chuckled slightly, embarrassed. “Well, no...”

“It’s settled then!” She announced. “We’ll head out for Xhorhas tomorrow. For now, though—let’s have another round!”

As the rest of the Nein cheered or smiled excitedly at her tone, Caleb’s gaze remained on Molly and Matt. Things had settled down over the past half hour or so, but Caleb wasn’t going to forget the outburst from before. He’d never seen Molly so riled up like that, especially out of nowhere. He seemed fine enough now, but Caleb couldn’t help but wonder... what was it that caused him to shout to begin with? And would he forget about it as their adventure continued? Or was he going to cause a problem that, next time, may not be resolved?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caleb: can I get a waffle?  
> *Molly yelling at Matt*  
> Caleb: can I PLEASE get a waffle?
> 
> Translations:  
> Ja - “yes”  
> Danke - “thank you”  
> Was - “what”  
> Nein - “no”


	9. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful beautiful chapter by my sister here <3  
> Give her some love!!!

The tavern they entered nearly half an hour ago, after Matt had unfrozen the entire town, didn’t really seem the nicest.

The counter was a polished granite, and the floor a spruce wood cut into small pieces and glued to the bottom, and the walls were cracked, weathered stone that made it look old and worn down. There was a bartender rushing around the place, delivering drinks and meals that consisted of bread, steak, and a few other things that were popular in this area of Exandria.

Molly placed his head on Yasha’s shoulder, who was sat beside him and sighed. His eyes hurt. His head hurt. In fact, _everything_ hurt from their odd, bustling trip to the west and back.

The sun had only just set, and for some reason, Molly was more tired than usual. Maybe Vax had done something to him in the woods that caused him to become drowsier than normal.

The corners of his lips turned up into a faint smile, taking the black feather from behind his ear and brushing it it gently with his left hand. It was delicate, almost as if a single bump against a wall or the table would send it fluttering into ashes. Molly would never leave it anywhere. As a token of his and Vax’s strange companionship, he felt a sense of protectiveness over it. Molly’s eyes drifted closed just as a hand tugged his hair from behind. He jerked around, but saw nothing. Yasha choked on her ale before she wiped a hand over her mouth and snickered.

“You’re so jumpy, you know that?” She asked him, nudging him with her elbow. He smiled, taking a lock of her hair and gently starting to braid it out of boredom. That was the only reason she had so many braids strung out through her hair; whenever Molly got bored or nervous, he’d string a braid or two into it. The intricate way the black and white weaved together was something he couldn’t achieve with his own hair. She enjoyed watching him do it, and seemed to find it relaxing.

“Molly, I did not know you knew how to braid hair,” Caleb exclaimed, a small smile spreading across his face as he admired Molly’s work. His gaze was intently focused on Molly’s hands as they swiftly pulled separate strands and wrapped them over one another with practiced ease.

“Yeah. I do. Would you like me to do _yours_ next?” Molly didn’t look up from his work. “And I do mean it, Caleb. It would be nice to do something to that- that clump of unbrushed red hair.”

Caleb grunted, offended. “I take care of my hair just fine-“

“You do _not_. Even Essek is better at taking care of himself then you are. And he looks absolutely _horrible_. Have you seem the amount of mascara that elf wears? It’s disgusting.”

“Molly, Essek is not disgusting,” Beau butted in, a semblance of disappointment filling her eyes.

“ _Ja_. That is easy for you to say, Beauregard.” Beau lifted her eyebrows before she turned and say back down, letting her head droop.

Matt had been strangely quite throughout their whole exchange, and Molly though that he’d caught sight of some sort of stone twisting between his fingertips. Maybe that’s what could have caused the magic. Maybe he wasn’t really a Worldbuilder. Maybe he had just been lying through the whole event.

Matt continued twirling the stone between his fingers, brushing past the band around his ring finger that he’d showed to them earlier. His wedding ring was quite unique; a gem or two inside, but plain as well. He was obviously married to someone with a _lot_ of money. Or maybe not. Maybe he’d stolen it.

But that wasn’t the only majestic thing about him. His almost shoulder-length hair looked soft and silky. It wasn’t a mess, wasn’t knotted at all.

“Caleb. You outta talk to Matt here about hair tips,” Molly purred, nudging Caleb’s side.

 _“Was?”_ Matt looked up, as did Caleb, and they exchanged glances. Matt opened his mouth to talk, but Yasha beat him to it.

“Alright, Nein. Let’s head up to bed. We all know who we’re sharing with? Matt, Caleb and Nott, you three have room 23. Fjord and Caduceus, room 22. Jester and Beau, 24. And Molly you’re with me in 21. I don’t want anyone up tonight, got it?”

“Up after hours? I wouldn’t _dream_ of it,” Nott smirked and Yasha glared down at her.

“If I catch you up, Nott, you’ll never want to stand up again.”

Nott yelped and sprinted behind Caleb. Everyone nodded and headed up the stairs, working their ways into their separate rooms.

Molly watched Matt observingly. The stone was still in his hands. His hair was still the same. But he looked deep in thought. What could he be thinking about?

Matt looked up and didn’t even look surprised that Molly had been watching him.

“Goodnight, Mollymauk.” Matt winked at him, closing the door of his room behind him.

-CR-CR-CR-

_The sky was dark, it was raining, the trees were still, the grass was covered in flames. It seemed like a battlefield. But for what?_

_Screams of terror filled the air silhouettes fell to the ground, dead. Molly couldn’t tell who they were. A figure behind him yelled out, and Molly instantly recognized the voice: Lorenzo._

_And Caleb. Caleb was fighting Lorenzo. Caleb didn’t stand a chance._

_Lorenzo’s blade swung through the air, catching Caleb in the stomach. The wizard fell backward, his face full of fear as Molly screamed his name. But Caleb didn’t hear him. Molly wasn’t really there._

_Molly cried out for Caleb again, having the slightest hope that he would hear him. But he didn’t._

_“I hope you join your little friend in hell, Widogast. And the rest of your friends.” Lorenzo sneered, a bloody grin spreading across his scarred face. Molly turned to look around the battlefield. His friends’ bodies were scattered across it, each one of them still and unmoving. Molly cried out, dropping to his knees. There was no answer. Caleb cried out in pain. Lorenzo laughed. And the rain wasn’t rain anymore. It was fire.Fire burning from the sky. And then Caleb went still._

Molly woke with a jolt. It was dark, and it was obvious the sun hadn’t risen yet. His chest was heaving and he was sweating more than usual. He held up his hands to realize they were shaking. He sighed. How long had he beendreaming for?

 _It was only a dream. Caleb’s not really dead. Or is he?_ The room smelled of dust and damp wood, and it was raining outside. A flash of lightning in the distance made Molly jump, as did the loud crashing thunder immediately afterward. He looked over at the window, where a small raven was perched on the sill, it’s feathers ruffling elegantly in the moonlight.

His eyes drifted to his side, where Yasha was stirring gently. She sat up slowly, and her eyes found Molly’s. She rubbed her eyes and yawned.

“Wha’ ‘sit?” Molly got the message from her tired voice. She was asking what it was that was bothering him. He sighed.

“It’s nothing, Yash. Just a bad dream.” She grunted and lifted her arm up, gesturing for Molly to come lay with her. Molly sighed and made his way over to her.

“What’s bothering you?” Her arm wrapped around him and she brushed a strand of his hair back with her hand. He shook his head.

“I told you. It’s nothing. It was only a bad dream.” She rolled her eyes. She obviously didn’t believe him. She never did when he woke up in the middle of the night.

“Alright. But you went through the trouble of waking up loudly. So, I think you should tell me.” She smiled, as Molly’s drowsy eyes fell shut. He was tired; and after what had just happened, he didn’t want to sleep.

_It’s alright, Mollymauk. Yasha will help you. But you do have to explain what happened._

He’d recognize that smooth and gently accented voice anywhere. Was Vax watching him? Molly wouldn’t be surprised, as him and Vax were close friends, but why would he be here? Molly took a deep breath as a feather fell to the windowsill.

_Clever bird. Bird? Aw, whatever. I wish he would’ve stayed longer. I could’ve talked to him instead of Yasha once she fell back asleep._

There were footsteps outside, startling Molly as Yasha ruffled his hair gently.

“Is everything alright in there? Fjord said he heard Molly whimpering about ten minutes ago,” There was a small knock at the door, before Caduceus opened it slightly, a concerned look on his face. He brushed his pink hair behind his ear and walked over to them, his footfalls making barely a sound.

“He’ll be fine, Caduceus. I appreciate you checking in on him, though.” Yasha mumbled and yawned again.

“I thought you didn’t want anyone up after hours, _Yasha_.” Molly whispered, looking teasingly into her eyes.

“Mollymauk, I am only checking on you.” How did Caduceus Always hear him? Was Molly really talking that loud?“Well, Yasha, just remind him he needs to get some sleep. We have a big day ahead of us,” Caduceus winked and hummed as he closed the door behind him.

“You hear that? You need to get some sleep. Cleric’s orders.”

Molly nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I heard,” he closed his eyes again, letting the darkness of sleep overcome him once again.

-CR-CR-CR-

_Wind bristled through the dark pine trees as crickets chirped and wolves howled. There were animals about, some looking down the small cliff. There was a small village at the base, nine or ten buildings. There was farmland, cows, stables. Then there was a war cry, and hundreds of soldiers ran towards the village: opening doors, setting fire to things. There were screams, yells of victory, then two voices filled the air behind him and Molly turned around. There they were. Both tieflings from his strange thoughts. The older one was holding a child, well the younger one held a pack filled with supplies._

_“You must leave, Selforn. Take him away from here. Far to the north. No one will find you both there. But if you want to live, you must leave now.” The older Tiefling, whom Molly assumed the mother of both the toddler and the teenager, whispered quietly. The one she called Selforn nodded and took the crying child from his mother._

_He had to be only 5 or 6 years old, shown by his facial features. His skin was a light lavender, similar to Molly’s, and then he opened his eyes. His eyes were red. Molly’s eyes widened._

_That wasn’t just some random tiefling family running away from a war. That was him. That was Lucien. Those two tieflings were his mother and sister._

“The _hell_?” Molly groaned and opened his eyes. It still wasn’tsunrise, “Why can’t I have a normal damn night for once,” he mumbled. The thoughts of the dream came back to him.

 _Selforn...?_ He didn’t even know for sure if that child was him. It couldn’t have been. There was no way that he had a sister.

 _Wait._ A wave of ideas rushed to Molly’s head. Was this all because of The Worldbuilder? Is this why he apologized? This has to all be on purpose. Besides, he’d only started having these strange—these memories, or whatever, after he touched the amulet. The one that was clearly connected to Matt. And if he had control over their adventures, did that mean he also had control over their individual lives? Was he sitting in the room with Caleb, laughing to himself as he forced Molly to relive unfamiliar things? To see Molly suffer for his own entertainment? That had to be what this was all about. _This is all Matt’s fault._

His eyes narrowed and he tried to sit up before realizing Yasha’s arm was still over him. She was sound asleep, no paint on her face, no angry look. Molly never really saw her this way. She was always angry and covered in makeup and face paint. 

Molly smiled to himself and gently slid off the bed. He placed a gentle kiss on the barbarian’s forehead.

“Sleep well, Yasha. I’ll be right back,” If he wanted this to end, he had to confront Matthew Mercer. He had to do _something_.

He took a deep breath and quickly made his way over to the door before gently opening it and walking down the hall to Caleb and Matt’s room. Every other door in the hallway was closed, some were cracked, some candles still seemed to be lit. When he made it to room 23, he hesitated.

_When I’m done with you, Matthew, you’ll regret this. All of this._

He held up his hand and knocked three times on the wooden door. A small groan, before the Worldbuilder answered in response to the knock. “Hmm? Yeah? Who is it?”

“Matthew?” He growled, “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly: *pouring water onto sleeping Matt’s face*  
> Matt: *wakes up, confused* Hello?


	10. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb listens in on a complex conversation between Molly and Matt.

_As the eight of them are lead to the center of this portion of the mine’s main structure, through a series of long hallways, there’s this general smell of soot, ash, and broken stone dust in the air. A hint of brimstone. It’s not very pleasant for those of the group who spend most of their time on the surface. As they enter, there’s this general dust in the air, and a little bit of light peeks through from the torches that are placed along the wall. They can see this general haze amongst the interior. It’s definitely a work environment at the base of this underground Dwarven establishment._

_They are led further down the hallway, it curves to the left, and are brought to a large Dwarven study. They can see books lining the walls, there are a series of ledgers and paper stacks on a large desk. In the center there sits a dwarf with fiery red hair, very short, in a near buzzcut on the top of his head. With an extremely long beard that is not braided, but is kept very smooth and straight. He’s very clean cut. He already has an intimidating dark glare to him as they walk into the room, and speaks. “Okay. You brought me a drink. You have my attention. What brings you to the mines?”_

_Percival cuts in before any of the others can speak. “Several things, actually; several things bring us to the mines.” He gives a sly smirk. “My name, of course, is Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo the Third.”_

_The rest of the group roll their eyes and speak in tandem, “You can call him Percy.”_

A humored smile made its way into Caleb’s features. The book was sitting on his chest, a faint light floating above his hand to illuminate the pages. That was one detail all the stories had in common; Percival de Rolo always introduced himself with his full, lengthy name, and the others echoed after with the same response of simply calling him his nickname. He’d found himself unconsciously branching the different details from the past books he’d read, comparing which ones were accurate to the story that was all but officially confirmed by Vox Machina themselves. The first book he’d ever read had skipped this mission entirely, and the second started much before it.

Caleb hadn’t started at the beginning, of course; he’d flipped to the page where the bookmark was placed and simply started there. He also knew it likely wasn’t smart to have the book out with the person he’d taken it from only a few feet away from him, but he couldn’t help it. He’d always been a fan of the stories of Vox Machina, and now... now he had the ability to read an official recount of their adventures. He couldn’t _not_ read it. Besides, it was surely much better off being read by someone than sitting on a shelf in a building that was falling apart.

A knock on the door cut through Caleb’s concentration. The summoned light in his hand flickered out with the elegance of a flame sputtering to survive, and Caleb was just about to answer when Matt’s voice rang out instead. “Hmm? Yeah?” His voice was a little hoarse, tone laced with drowsiness and an underlying sense of something else that Caleb couldn’t identify. “Who is it?”

Caleb strained his ears to hear the response. He wasn’t sure who would be up so late at night, or why they’d be knocking on his door. Maybe the steward had discovered Caleb’s questionable past and wanted him to leave. Or maybe Nott had stolen something and they were searching for her. Caleb’s muscles tightened ever so slightly and he found himself wrapping a little more protectively around the small form curled up next to him.

She’d nearly given her life to protect him on more occasions than he could count. Caleb knew he could never repay that debt, but it was less of an obligation anymore. Nott had become his friend over the years they’d been traveling together. It wasn’t that he felt like he was required to protect her, in return for everything she’d done for him, though that was certainly part of it. She was his friend, and he just simply wouldn’t allow harm to come to her.

“Matthew?” The voice on the other side called out, tense and angry. But Caleb recognized it. He let a relieved breath pass through his clenched teeth and relaxed. “We need to talk.”

“You can come in,” Matt spoke softly; he likely believed Caleb and Nott to be asleep.

Caleb knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop. He knew he should probably speak up and say he was awake, that they’d best take their private conversation elsewhere. It wasn’t his place to listen in on something that didn’t concern him. Especially after what happened with his parents...

The memory wasn’t real, he knew, but it had seemed like it before. Eavesdropping on his parents was what had revealed their “true intentions,” what had ultimately caused their death. Obviously, Matt and Molly weren’t about to ramble off traitorous words about the empire, and even if they did, Caleb really couldn’t care less. In fact, he’d be more likely to join them than anything else. It was simply the action of eavesdropping. He knew it was wrong, knew Molly probably waited to speak with their new companion so that nobody else would hear what he had to say. But Caleb was a curious person. And, whether he’d admit it or not, his curiosity was getting the better of him. Besides, as the one often looked at to lead the group, he’d best find as much information on Matt as possible.

So Caleb pushed the book under his pillow, rolled onto his side, curled around Nott, and closed his eyes, feigning sleep by evening out his breathing and throwing in the occasional mumble under his breath. The door clicked open, creaking from the wooden floorboards following soon after.

“You’re angry with me,” Matt said. Caleb could hear the question in his tone.

A soft rustle signaled Molly sitting down on the bed next to Matt, followed by a frustrated sigh. Caleb realized suddenly that this must have something to do with his outburst from earlier. Molly’s sudden unwarranted frustration with Matt over something as simple as a small spell. Though Caleb wouldn’t say so, that was part of the reason he’d refused tolet himself fall asleep tonight. Something about Molly’s angry shouting had stirred a memory of Ikithon, and Caleb couldn’t handle a nightmare on top of everything else.

“The visions,” Molly finally said, “they need to stop.”

“The... what?”

Caleb let a small string of words press pass his lips in Zemnian. Molly had shared a room with him in the past, and had mentioned the morning after that Caleb seemed to mumble a lot while he slept. He was sure the Tiefling would catch on if he remained silent throughout the entirety of his exchange with Matt. _“Du hast mir nichts über visionen erzählt...”_

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds and Caleb was almost worried he’d been caught before Molly’s voice continued. “He’s asleep. Must be dreaming.” There was a faint cling of metal against metal, like Molly had shaken his head and his jewelry had bumped together. “I’ve been getting these visions. Like memories. They only started after your amulet lit up.”

“And you think I’m causing them.”

Molly growled. “What other explanation is there? Your amulet glows, I start getting weird dreams and visions. Supposedly you’re some all powerful creator of our universe. Doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me.”

Matt let out a long breath. “I didn’t want to have to give this explanation, but... I think it might be the only way for me to keep you from slicing my head off.” An undertone of humor found its way into his final words.

“Well, out with it.”

Clearly Molly didn’t find his joke funny. Matt took a moment to formulate his words. “I told you that I created Exandria.” Another ring of jewelry echoed as Molly likely nodded. “In my world, we have this... this game that we play. A group of people get together and make characters. I’m the Dungeon Master, so I’m the one that creates the world their characters exist in. I come up with plotlines, villains, characters for them to interact with. But I don’t control them.”

A contemplative silence, then, “so I’m not one of the characters you created.”

“No. You, and the rest of the Nein... you’re the characters portrayed by the rest of my group.”

“Your wife, does she play?” Caleb figures that Matt must’ve nodded, because Molly continued, “who’s her character?”

“Beauregard.” A pause. “And she used to be another character, Keyleth.”

Caleb almost couldn’t contain his gasp of excitement. His theory had been _right_. A frown pursed his lips. If Beau and Keyleth were “played” by the same person, did that mean Caleb, too, had a Vox Machina counterpart? A small bubble of excitement found its way into his chest and his heartbeat fluttered. He couldn’t help but hope it was Percy, with his incredible intelligence and smarts. They certainly seemed the most alike. But even as he thought it, he realized that perhaps that was the reason they _weren’t_ counterparts. Beauregard and Keyleth almost couldn’t seem more different. Caleb’s frown deepened. _I hope it is not Grog. I mean, no offense to Grog or anything..._

It seemed crazy. Their whole lives, simply created by someone for the sake of a game? Everything they’d done, every choice they’d made, had they never really been in control? It had certainly seemed like it. Perhaps they did, here... it was simply a parallel universe in which Matthew existed that made their lives so insignificant.

“So we’re all just a game to you. Our whole lives, they’ve just been someone puppeting us.”

“When you put it that way, it seems less... less personal. Less lifelike. I think that you make your choices, here. And even if you don’t exist to us, you’re a part of our lives. My friend Liam, he created Caleb partially as a reflection of his own mind.”

Caleb froze at the mention of his name. Before he could form a thought, however, Molly responded. He sounded angrier than before. “What, is he sad all the time? Closed off? Does he have a tragic past?”

Of course that was how Molly saw him. It was how everyone saw him. He _wasn’t_ always sad, he just didn’t like to let himself get happy. Joy wasn’t something he deserved after everything he’d done. But he’d smiled a lot more since he met the rest of the Nein. And he’d told them of his past. He wasn’t closed off.

Matt chuckled, but it sounded almost sad. “He’s got anxiety and depression.”

Molly snorted. “And what right does he have to shove all that on Caleb?”

“You don’t exist to us!” Matt’s tone was sharp. “Don’t you dare talk about Liam like that. Who are you to judge how he copes? Would you rather he hurt people? Hurt _himself?”_

Molly didn’t answer. Caleb’s head shifted against the pillow as he considered the explanation. It seemed a unique way to cope with negative feelings; creating a character and portraying them in a fictional world. Caleb tended to simply lock himself in a room and wallow until they had to leave the next day. But, he mused, perhaps it wasn’t much different from writing a story.

He’d often found solace in the books others wrote. Hence the reason he stayed up to read Matt’s Vox Machina book rather than risk falling asleep to bad dreams. And to think his existence was to help someone else deal with the feelings he himself often felt... maybe he wasn’t so worthless after all?

Caleb’s mental clock cut into his thoughts. 2:00 AM.

“What does any of this have to do with my visions?” Molly finally asked.

“You asked for an explanation and this is what I can give.” Matt’s tone was still tense, yet simultaneously apologetic. Almost pitying. “I haven’t sent you whatever these dreams are, memories or otherwise. If time is still passing in my world, maybe Taliesin decided it was time you started remembering your past.”

Molly reflected Caleb’s silent contemplation after that. Caleb could only imagine what he must be thinking. Perhaps he didn’t believe a word Matt was saying. That would be what made the most sense logically. But Caleb just had a feeling, deep down, and he knew there was no point in arguing because it was the truth. To think that their whole lives were controlled by someone else just seemed strange. It wasn’t like he didn’t have free will; he’d made decisions before, chosen a path or a course of action. He’d been controlled before, and if there was anything he was sure of, it was that their lives didn’t revolve around these people that “created” them.

Then again, their lives were each a unique mixture of tragic. How could so many good people be thrust into such bad situations, and then just so happen to end up traveling as a group? They were the pinnacle of misfits; Tieflings and a goblin, a fallen “part-celestial,” a firebolg, a half-orc, an angry monk, and, of course, himself. A common occurrence? Not at all. But when it came to stories, it always seemed like a tragic past followed many of the characters like a shadow. Like them.

Caleb wasn’t doubting that Exandria was Matt’s creation. That had been proven to them when he unfroze the small town with nothing more than a thought. But the idea that they were each portrayed by another person, that every choice they made was reliant on someone else... it just seemed crazy.

Caleb belatedly noticed the still lingering silence in the air, and he exhaled a long breath, letting a few more Zemnian words form on his lips as he did so. _“Das ganze scheint wirklich komisch.”_

One of the other two shifted in their place on the mattress with a hefty sigh. “Well,” Molly said uncertainly, “thanks for the explanation. I think... I think I’m gonna sit on it for a little while.”

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Matt answered, “I think things work a little differently here than they do where I come from.”

The floorboards began to creak once more, this time approaching Caleb. He tensed ever so slightly when a hand fell on his shoulder. “Sleep well, Caleb,” Molly murmured, pressing a light kiss to Caleb’s temple, “we’re watching over you.”

At that parting remark, he walked back across the room, paused one final time, then closed the door behind him. A small smile made its way into Caleb’s features; he wasn’t sure he could ever describe the admiration he felt for their small group. They were more like a family, he supposed, though none of them looked even closely related. But that was beside the point.

“I’m sure you have questions, Caleb,” Matt’s voice rang out into the still silence.

Caleb froze. “How...?”

A small laugh. “How did I know you were awake? The Zemnian you spoke, it mirrors another language in my world. My friend Liam speaks a little and I’ve picked some up over the years.”

Caleb shifted and rolled over to face Matt, careful not to disturb Nott. “Liam. The one you said created me.”

“Yes, that’s him.” Caleb watched as Matt broke into a faint smile, the faint torchlight reflecting off his features. He was rolling the small stone back and forth between his fingers again. Perhaps it was a nervous habit?

“I... I am thinking, mostly,” Caleb admitted, “there are no specific questions that I feel the need to ask.”

Matt glanced over at him and tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “Surely there’s _something_ you’re dying to know.”

Caleb paused. Yes, Matt was correct; despite the fact that it really didn’t matter, that it would do nothing more than present him with more things to think on, he still couldn’t help but wonder— “You said Beauregard was portrayed by the same person that created Keyleth. Do I...”

Matt smiled and a faint chuckle pressed past his lips. Perhaps he was surprised by the question? He was likely expecting something a little more... philosophical. But he gave an answer nonetheless, spoke it with a humored smile. “Vax’ildan.”

The most noble of Vox Machina. Caleb never would’ve thought to draw the bridge between the two of them. Not that it didn’t make sense, or that he found it offensive or anything, but he didn’t think he was _worthy_ of association with someone like that. He hummed affirmation to Matt’s answer, brain already reeling with questions.

Matt spoke up before he could get too lost in thought. “Ask me more tomorrow.” Caleb found himself yawning against his will. “Goodnight, Caleb.”

His eyes were drifting closed. The only answer he gave was another faint hum, and though he normally would have been worried about the lack of response being offensive, he was suddenly too tired to care. Caleb almost thought he heard another faint chuckle from Matt, but he barely had time to consider it before his eyes fell closed, he breathed out, and sleep gently pulled him into its cradling embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! That little “Vox Machina” excerpt at the beginning actually came from the first episode! I just took Matt’s words and changed around some of the “you’s.”
> 
> Molly, finding out they’re all figments of peoples’ imaginations: well when life gives you lemons :D
> 
> Translations:  
> Du hast mir nichts über visionen erzählt - “You didn’t tell me about visions”  
> Das ganze scheint wirklich komisch - “This whole thing seems really strange”


	11. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The travels to Xhorhas begin, filled with reflections, sorrowful conversations, and an interesting encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is a little overdue... let’s get some insight into another character’s thoughts on all of this.

Lonely was the first word to come to mind. Lonely, then scared. Frustrated. Despite being surrounded by a group of eight welcoming people, he couldn’t feel farther from companionship. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense; he knew them like the back of his own hand. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe it was better when people were hiding secrets, keeping parts of themselves locked away to be revealed later. In reality, he just missed his friends.

Marisha’s kind but harsh nature that made up for his lack of a backbone. Liam’s constant expressions of love for the rest of the team with his heart on his sleeve. Ashley’s shy joy that was enough to make even his worst days better. Sam’s boasting and extroverted self that really seemed to serve as a way to make everyone around him smile and laugh. Laura’s bubbly persona and the light she brought with her everywhere she went. Travis’ quiet gentleness that always seemed to betray the body he was locked away in. Taliesin’s uniquely comforting and attentive personality with a teasing and sarcastic undertone.

The Nein just weren’t the same.

Matt let a long sigh past his clenched teeth, fidgeting with the miniature dodecahedron in his hand. It was the only thing he’d woken up with that he recognized, save his wedding band. A deep violet 20-sided die, accented with black and silver glitter that sparkled through the slightly translucent color. The Critical Role logo took the place of the 20, both it and the rest of the numbers shaded a shining silver that matched the glitter. It was part of a whole set that a fan had given him years ago; the first dice set he’d been gifted.

Something about the familiarity of it was comforting. A link to home, to his Thursday night routines, to his friends. A link to normality. Because if anything _wasn’t_ normal, it was everything else he was currently experiencing. _Welcome to Exandria_ , he mused humorlessly, _the fictional world you created for a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. Adventuring parties at your next left, magic on your immediate right, and a mystical city down the road._

Matt’s gaze flickered to the group around him. They’d left the small town of Carrown somewhere around an hour before, supposedly headed on the way to Xhorhas to meet up with Essek Thelyss. An NPC that he’d created for aforementioned Dungeons and Dragons campaign that was, should he stress once more, _not real_. Matt knew the eight adventurers around him were taking him there for more then just a solution to his inter-dimensional problems. Essek essentially served as their stereotypical knowledgeable resource that did magic. Sure, he’d be able to help, but they most definitely also planned on discovering if Matt had been telling the truth, if he should be trusted.

Matt didn’t even know if it was worth the trip. Yes, Essek was supposed to be smart, but was it even possible for a character that he created to be smarter than he was himself? Could a fictional character he’d written up one night know more about his own world than he did?

The terrain around them had shifted, at some point, to a strangely looming cemetery. Graves marked in slabs of stone, marble pillars, the occasional building-like structure with an intimidating statue standing guard atop it. A crow let out a sharp screech and stretched out its wings, taking off from its perch on a nearby headstone.

Strange, how everything changed so quickly from the bright promises of the trees to the dark sorrow of a graveyard. Almost like the situation he’d found himself mixed up in. From the bubbling excitement of his Thursday plans to a harrowing confusion of... whatever this was.

Matt absently rolled the dice from one hand to the other. Two. He was just about to lose himself in his thoughts once more, thoughts about his ironic dice roll, when someone sidled up next to him. He swiftly closed his hand and shifted his gaze. Short brown hair and a teal-green vest greeted him.

“What’s that?” Beauregard asked, gaze noticeably shifting towards his hand.

Right to the point, then. Like Marisha. The backs of his eyes stung and he quickly looked away, then hesitantly opened his hand. “Just a dice.”

She hummed a short response, and Matt restrained himself from snatching it and shoving her away when she took it from his hand, not bothering to ask permission. He watched as she held it up to the sun and looked it over. The light illuminated the sparkling glitter inside, sending reflections of light bouncing onto Beau’s face. She rolled it over in her own hand. Then she handed it back, silently. Matt almost thought that was the end of the conversation when she spoke up.

“You say ‘just.’” Her tone was gentle yet observant. “I think it means more to you than that.”

He considered dismissing her, but if she was anything like Marisha, she’d just come back and ask the same question later. So instead, he just gave a faint nod and rolled it between his hands again. “It’s familiar.”

Not to say that Exandria wasn’t, but somehow, living in the world he’d created felt a lot more daunting and intimidating than simply writing or telling about it. “I understand,” Beau answered, “it gives a bit of comfort even though everything around you is different from what you’re used to.”

Matt just nodded. Despite their dramatic differences, Matt could still see a reflection of his wife in Beauregard’s character. Calm and stoic, level-headed. Definitely stronger than Matt himself, at least physically and maybe emotionally, too. A small smile found its way onto his lips as he remembered the time someone burst into the studio and Marisha had leapt in front of Matt before he could even react, baseball bat in hand and ready to attack. Beauregard had often done the same for her companions throughout their story.

He twisted his wedding band around his finger. Despite only having woken up in Exandria the day before, the slow passage of time and the pressing loneliness made it seem like weeks had gone by. When he’d first awoken, he’d thought that maybe this was some comatose nightmare. Maybe the headaches he’d been having were something worse than simple headaches and he’d slipped into a long bout of unconsciousness where his brain decided it would be fun to drop him in his own fictional universe.

The panic that would’ve been in Marisha’s voice when she woke up and he was unresponsive...

Matt stiffened when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around his middle from behind. “Please don’t cry.”

He looked down first, through blurred vision, to see pale blue arms held around his torso, dressed with flowing sleeves and dark gloves, a bracelet on one wrist. And when his eyes shifted back up, he realized everyone else had stopped, watching him in varying levels of concern. Beau was still to his right, and her eyes displayed an internal battle between staying back or stepping forward. A waver in his voice betrayed his words as he insisted, “I’m alright.”

He wasn’t, really. And if it had been any of his friends, he wouldn’t have lied. They’d have been able to see right through it. Belatedly, he realized the Nein probably could, too.

That was the thing about Matt. Anyone he’d just met, any fan that watched their streams or a guest that sat in on a session, they would say he was good with emotions. Several times he’d met someone at a panel, a cosplayer or someone who just wanted a picture, and he could just tell. In the way their smile seemed a little more pressured and forced than genuine. In the slightest strain of their voice as they spoke. Marisha had often commented on how admirable it was that, before taking the picture or answering their question, he would pause, ask if _they_ were okay, give a smile and tell them that they mattered.

And Liam, the strongest of their group yet somehow also one of the saddest. Matt written up their original campaign as a way of showing their friendship, proving that Liam had people that cared for him. In Liam’s oneshot, where he’d taken his maze of thoughts and made them into a story... Matt’s first care lay on ensuring Liam understood that _Matt_ understood. Good with emotions of others, yes.

But not so much his own. 

Currently, it was a combination of a lot of things.

The loneliness. He’d spent time away from his friends before; of course he had. More time than just a couple of days. But the veritable weight of knowing that he couldn’t see them even if he wanted to... After so many years of meeting up week after week, spending hours laughing and bonding over something they all enjoyed, and now he had no means of contacting them.

The fear. Of what? A lot, if he thought about it. Night after night sitting at his desk, writing up lore and characters, monsters and quests. It shouldn’t have been intimidating because Matt knew this world better than he knew himself. But something about it just didn’t sit right. The situation as a whole—how had he ended up here? Was time still passing in his world? Did his friends even know he was gone? What was this magic he’d been apparently using? Would he ever get back home?

The frustration. A cause of both previous emotions, really. He was surrounded by people that clearly cared about him, at least a little bit, and yet, he’d never felt more alone. He had countless questions that he wasn’t sure he’d ever get answers for.

He wished it was just a comatose dream.

“C’mon,” he insisted, ignoring the beginnings of multiple protests and pushing Jester away. “We don’t have time to waste.”

He didn’t wait to hear their responses. Not until an echo of his name being shouted reached his ears.

He didn’t have time to comprehend the panic in their tones before something slammed into his chest with the force of an angry bull. His breath left him in a surprised grunt as whatever it was lifted him into the air. He struggled, the sun glinting into his eyes and leaving him blinded for a second. All his energy went to finding out _what the hell just attacked him_ , to shaking away the spots in his vision.

And then he was falling.

The impact came quicker than he thought it would, but no less forcefully. Stars exploded across his vision. Stars, but less like the ones he’d see in the sky and more like the bright blazing glory of a sun, looking directly at it, like before. Blinding. Blinding as the pain in the back of his head, and sudden. Like a loud clatter cutting through silence. Like a light in the darkness.

Matt wished he had a light in his current darkness...

He came back to himself with a gasp, mind following instinctual instructions to first take stock of any physical damage. Pain in the back of his head and neck, with a warmth slowly spreading from the latter. Lungs burning as he regained control over his breathing. Matt blinked furiously, shaking away the spots in his vision, pushing himself onto his elbows in an attempt to survey the scene.

Molly was shouting something, both swords out and swinging, with Yasha at his side, mirroring his action with her own blade. Jester was flanking behind them, magic glittering at her fingertips. Fjord was a good ten feet away and appeared to be locked in melee with another enemy, a small form at his side. Matt belatedly realized it was Nott. And Caleb stood behind them, following Jester’s example and summoning his own magic to his palms. And that only left...

Beauregard, on the ground a few meters to his left, with Caduceus at her side.

Eyes darting back to the fighting, Matt’s focus went to the enemies. Large stone creatures, wings flanked behind them and sharp talons swiping at their attackers. Even if he hadn’t had years of experience with the Monster Manual, Matt could’ve identified them. Gargoyles. Protectors of dungeons and sacred places alike, and listed with countless defenses and immunities. Of course; they were made of stone.

If only he were at home. He could run off, lock a door, wait for things to pass. Leave someone else to solve this problem, and protect himself from danger.

Like a coward.

Matt’s eyes darted between the battle and the trees looming behind them. He could go. He could leave them all and try to work things out on his own. Protect himself from both the dangers of this fight and the harrowing process of explaining things to them. They were all occupied. None of them would notice.

But this wasn’t home. There was no locking himself away, waiting for someone to rescue him. What would Taliesin say? _Get your ass up, Matthew. Don’t sit by and watch yourself get beat down; you have to stand up and fight._

And if anyone knew the way to defeat a gargoyle, it was him.

Willing away the last of his dizziness, Matt pushed himself off the ground. Almost like it was a natural response, his eyes drifted closed. Everything around him shifted. The wind dulled to a breeze, then stopped. The rising scent of stirred dust dissipated, became dry air. The echoes of clashing swords and magical incantations, of primal growls and stone, dulled to a hum. He opened his eyes.

He was seeing everything in shades of deep blue, violet, gray. A muffled thrumming echoed in his ears, but nothing more. Everyone was frozen in place, leaving a perfect vantage point to examine the scenario, to formulate a plan. Matt pushed away his excitement at his newfound ability to be dealt with later.

_Okay. Gargoyle. Immune to poison, resistant to most damage from weapons that aren’t magic._

His gaze went over the image in front of him, and he found himself nodding, despite the fact that no one could see him. This was a job for Jester and Caleb. And maybe himself, if another spell decided to surface. Matt glanced toward their surroundings, scanning for any additional threats. Trees and headstones. A raven, perched on a particular slab of marble, watching him. The raven tilted its head upon being noticed, ruffled its feathers. Matt faltered.

Everything else—the people, the monsters, the dust in the air—was frozen, and yet, this bird... this _raven_... His eyes grew wide in understanding.

He directed a faint smile in the champion’s direction, was given a bow of the head in response. Then he inhaled, closed his eyes again, and straightened his stance, awaiting the returning thrum of battle.

It was interesting, he mused. Liam had often hinted towards the presence of his previous character lingering on some of the Nein’s adventures. Like a guardian angel, almost. A likely combination of Easter eggs for the fans, a captivating undertone of their tale, and a simple attachment to his past character. Still, to know such a powerful being was watching over them was comforting, in a way. And if said powerful being could work in spite of his Dungeon Master abilities, then perhaps that was a sign that—

A sword clanged loudly against stone. Matt’s eyes snapped open, thoughts scattered, and he quickly regained his composure.

“The swords, they won’t get you anywhere!” He shouted, cautious steps turning into a jog.

Nott spun towards him. “What?”

“Gargoyles are resistant to damage from non-magical weapons!” Matt elaborated, and beckoned towards Jester and Caleb.

To his relief, the others understood his point rather quickly.Molly and Yasha locked gazes, attacked the creature from both sides, then bolted in opposite directions. Nott darted under her creature’s feet and, while it was distracted, Fjord disengaged and followed Molly and Yasha’a lead. The three of them circled around to where Caduceus and Beau were still prone.

Caleb swiftly sidestepped to Jester’s side, gaze flickering back towards Matt as they waited for Nott to clear the path. Matt gave a nod of confirmation. Fire sparked to life in Caleb’s hands, the flames licking into the air. Jester’s own magic came to life, glittering and bright pink.

Matt glanced down at the die still held in his right hand. A faint ray of sunlight peeking through the clouds bounced off of it, giving an iridescent shine to the carefully painted numbers on his surface. Left hand outstretched and palm facing up, he let it roll off his right.

Then Nott scrambled from the field and slipped behind Caleb, leaving both gargoyles open for attack. In tandem, Caleb and Jester thrust their hands forward. The sparkling pink mixed with flickering orange, each targeting its own enemy. The gargoyles hardly had time to react and try to escape as the impact came. An explosion of fire resounded around them, harmonized the swooshing effect of Jester’s magic. The stir sent a cloud of dust whirling around the contact point, obscuring their view. Matt prepared for the worst.

His gaze once more fell to the dice, now still and resting in his left palm. A deft smirk pressed onto his face. _Natural twenty_. Then the wind blew, taking the sand and dirt with it, and gifted them with a perfect view of two very destroyed, very _dead_ remnants of gargoyles. Stones scattered across the dirt, with a large chunk here or there that represented a wing, a paw.

His plan had worked. Relief spread over him, muscles relaxing and arms falling back to his sides. Jester spun towards Caleb, a triumphant grin on her face, and held up her hand for a high five. Caleb laughed and met it. Nott was clinging to Caleb’s left leg, patting him on the thigh in her own relief. To Matt’s right, Caduceus was helping Beau sit up, filling her in on the rather short battle. He could see Fjord leaning against his sword that was stuck in the ground, gaze focused admiringly on Jester.

All reminiscent of his own friends. Liam and Laura’s relationship echoed in their smiles and celebratory high fives. Sam’s constant show of affection towards Liam by way of physical contact. Taliesin’s constant concern over his friends’ wellbeing, Marisha’s desire to understand everything that was going on around her at all times. The constant adoring stares that Travis regarded Laura with.

Then Yasha was in front of him, shoving him back against a nearby tree. Not like Ashley at _all_. “Why did you do that?” She demanded.

“Yasha!” Molly appeared behind her, protesting her sudden action.

Her breath was heavy and hot, anger evident in her downturned eyebrows and narrowed gaze. His adrenaline having already worn off, Matt winced at the grinding of the tree bark into the back of his head and neck. “You have control over our world,” Yasha continued, voice low and threatening, “so why did you send those creatures after us?”

“I didn’t!” Matt struggled against her grip, but she only pushed him against the tree more forcefully.

“What, you wanted a chance to prove yourself? To play the hero?” She laughed humorlessly. “Well guess what, mister high-and-mighty, I’m not gonna—“

“Yasha!” Molly repeated her name, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her back.

She spun towards him. “You want to know as well as I do.”

Molly held up his hands and stepped back. “Stop and think for a second!” His tone was sharp. “Do you think he _wanted_ to get thrown against the ground?“

“Even I have to follow rules,” Matt said quietly.

And Yasha turned back towards him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Matt pushed himself away from the tree. “I created Exandria, but there are still guidelines. Part of what makes things challenging is encounters. Periodic run-ins with creatures that test your skills.”

“And? If you have control over things, you can just make them _not happen_.”

“No, I can’t.” He gestured towards the trees. “Different terrains have different amounts and difficulties of encounters. Those are the rules.”

Molly frowned and stepped forward. “So, the harder our travels, the easier our fights. And the other way around.”

Matt nodded. “Exactly. I have pre-written encounters so I can control what you run into. Well, I _could_ , when I was home. But this surprised me just as much as you.”

“So, we just keep fighting until the ones you have ready run out,” Molly suggested, grinning as if he’d just solved world hunger.

Matt, on the other hand, knew that wasn’t the case. As a Dungeon Master, preparation was everything. NPC name lists, randomly generated locations, and, especially, encounters. The party could go so far off track sometimes that they were in a desert when he’d planned an ocean. So he’d spent countless hours writing up just as countless amounts of encounters, sorted them by environment, and left it at that.

“Uh...” Matt never thought he’d regret being prepared for something. “I don’t think that’s likely.”

Yasha stared at him, eyes flickering over his form as if she was trying to decipher some sort of code. “How many... encounters... do you have written out?” She asked, tone still laced with anger but a little more calm than before.

Matt was about to throw out an estimate upwards of _three hundred_ when someone else cut in. “Matthew. You’re bleeding.”

Caduceus, sparing no time to ask permission first, swept Matt‘s hair away from his neck and prodded at it. The pain was so sharp and sudden that Matt flinched and tried to pull away, but Caduceus’ hold on his shoulder (that he’d somehow not noticed before) kept him in place.

“Shit.” Yasha grumbled. “Did I do that?”

And now she was reflecting Ashley. Well, to an extent; the overwhelming concern over her own actions directed towards others, be it one of the Critical Role cast, a fan, or someone in a store. “No,” Matt assured her. “It happened when I hit the ground.”

The lingering pain in his neck slowly vanished, and Matt caught sight of a bright glow in his peripheral vision. Caduceus pulled his hand back with a smile. And then Matt stumbled, a sudden wave of dizziness sending his vision spotting out for a few seconds.

A hand caught him around his back before he fell, gentle but firm. Like the way Marisha has caught him when he nearly passed out from dehydration when he was sick a year or so back. And when she’d pulled him back to his feet and his vision cleared, he’d leaned forward, met her lips. And she’d scolded him for being an idiot.

“Careful.” Caduceus’ smooth voice cut into the memory. “Sometimes magic can make you a little drowsy.”

Matt closed his eyes for a moment to clear his vision, then pulled away as he reopened them. “Thank you,” he mumbled, hand raising to the back of his neck in curiosity.

The skin under his fingertips was slightly raised, like a scar, but the only sign that there was every any blood was the leftover on the collar of his armor and a few strands of hair. Laura would’ve been ecstatic. She’d always loved the idea of magic and anything mystically unexplainable.

“Let’s regroup!” Fjord’s voice rang out. “Heal, have food, relax. Then we’ll get to Xhorhas.“

Molly grinned, eyes glittering. “I’m sure Essek will be _thrilled_ to see us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matt, to Yasha: I think I know more about *Dungeons and Dragons* than you do, genius


End file.
